Suite 69
by twolipps
Summary: Jasper has hit rock bottom and is doing anything just to make ends meet...and then he meets Bella. Can he fulfill his obligations, and then walk away? One shot AH J&B
1. Chapter 1

**I was talking to a co-worker one day and she mentioned something about maids offering special services to guests at the hotels they worked in. And of course, with my mind in the gutter, this one shot was formed. **

**Some of you may ask if I plan to continue it, and the answer is simply, I don't know. It's the busiest time of the year for me at work, so I'm even surprised that I could get this much out. **

**Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.**

**This has not been beta'd, so please don't go pointing out every mistake and grammatical flaw.**

**SM doesn't own this one. She has her own.**

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><p><strong>Suite 69<strong>

"Whitlock, Eric called a moment ago. He said to take that stack of towels to room sixty-nine!" Mike yelled.

I slammed my locker shut and turned to face him, grimacing in disgust as he hitched his navy blue polyester uniform pants up over his protruding stomach. The bottom two buttons of his shirt refused to meet across the expanse of his gluttonous flesh and the two inches of hairy, sweaty skin was all I could focus on when I looked at him.

"I just clocked out, Mike. I've gotta get home to—"

He looked up from the clip board he was writing on at me with a sneer on his face, double chins swaying. There was a spot of what looked like strawberry jelly stuck in the left corner of his mustache and a white powdery ring around his lips. Looking at him, I vowed never eat another jelly doughnut in my life. He made me want to vomit.

"I'm sorry, did I ask you your opinion?" he snapped.

Mike Newton was one of those people who had nothing going for them outside of their barely above minimum wage job and thought his title of 'Staff Supervisor' meant he could say and do anything he wanted to those who worked under him. He usually didn't bother me, knowing I wouldn't stand for his shit, but here lately he must have remembered that as a man, he had a set of balls, and had been testing my patience with his orders.

"Did I say, 'Jasper, tell me your thoughts on the order I just gave you?' No, so getcha ass up to room sixty-nine with those towels!" He walked off toward his office, murmuring, "If the damn maids would do their job, we wouldn't have so many fucking towel runs." He turned around to add, "And fix the light in the bathroom while you're up there!"

I plopped down to the wood bench in front of the lockers and ran a hand through my hair, tugging on the ends. Could my life get any more complicated? Working two jobs for a total of twelve hours a day in between classes and taking care of my responsibilities at home was beginning to wear on me. The only thing keeping me going was that I would be graduating in six short weeks, that is, if I could find the time to put the finishing touches on my senior project and to start studying for my upcoming finals.

The stack of towels leered at me. I hate towels. I just didn't have it in me to deliver those bastards. Because it wasn't just the towels I was delivering, it's what they stood for.

Exactly fifteen months ago the universe turned my world upside down and dumped my pitiful ass into the gutter. In response to loosing almost everything, I picked myself up, applied for and was hired as a doorman at one of the swankiest hotels in Manhattan, the Renaissance. It paid the bills…if I juggled them around a bit and called to beg for extensions each month.

I was surviving on beanies and weenies and pop tarts when I was approached with a solution that was sold to me in the vein that it would solve all my problems. And since I began this new endeavor a few short months ago, it has; I've been able to pre-pay my tuition, keep the lights on and put food in the refrigerator and take care of those that need me. But now, even though it continues to roll in, the money isn't the problem. The problem is I've started to feel cheap, dirty and worn out. I don't know how much more I can take.

"Move ya ass, Whitlock!" Mike yelled from him office. It was a muffled sound, and I would bet my left nut he was stuffing shit in his face again.

The sound of his Little Debbie, Tasty Kake clogged throat barking out orders at me set my blood to nuclear. Jabba the Hut's little brother wasn't going to order me around. I jumped up, intent on going after the jackass and pounding him and his blubber butt into the grimy tile floor. Before I could make it very far I was grabbed around the waist and hauled backward.

"Whoa! Chill out, man," Edward said, putting a hand on my chest to hold me back.

Instead of slamming my fist into the mountain of flesh I wanted to see jiggle, I turned and punched the door of my locker, denting the metal and splitting my knuckles open. Blood welled up and ran down my fingers. I snatched one of the towels off the stack and wrapped it around my hand.

"Hey man, what's up with the Rocky routine?" Edward asked.

I cursed under by breath and mumbled, "I gotta take towels to room sixty-nine."

"Is this your first towel run tonight?" He motioned me over to the sink and turned the water on for me.

"Yeah." I stuck my hand under the faucet, letting the cold water wash the blood away.

"I could take it for you, if you want," he offered. He dug through the first aid kit and tossed me a roll of medical tape and squares of white gauze.

"Nah, I got it; maybe next time. But thanks, man." I finished wrapping my hand and scooped up the stack of towels and a small tool box.

"You know, you could just say no," Edward called out after me.

The elevator _pinged_, the doors sliding open with a _woosh_. The idea of quitting before I graduated was out of the question. There were too many uncertainties, like the fact even though I had been interviewing left and right with all kinds of companies, I still hadn't had a solid offer of employment. When a person had responsibilities like I had, you'd be a fool to turn down a sure thing just because your moral compass was pointing north again.

"Soon," I said, and stepped into the small box car.

When the elevator doors slid open again I was on the first floor. The concierge office was immediately in front of the elevator bay, and I wasn't too thrilled see Eric manning the front desk. The fucking bastard was the reason I was in this mess in the first place. This whole towel delivering business was his idea, his money making scheme that I was dumb enough to get sucked into. And now that I had gotten used to paying bills on time and eating real food that didn't come in a dented with no label, it was too hard to let it all go.

Mystery meat is not my friend and Toxic Hell taco's don't fill up a growing boy's belly.

It all started in the middle of ethics class about ten months ago. Professor Banner opened the discussion stating that rather than accepting the usual argument that prostitution was immoral, under certain circumstances it could be considered a morally acceptable form of employment.

_What? _

He first started with the reasons it could be viewed as immoral: it tend to involved coercion. In most cases, people just don't up and decided to become a prostitute. What little girl do you know dreams of hanging out on a street corner in the dead of winter wearing a spandex skirt, a red bustier and a black pleather jacket? And even though most teenage boys only have sex on the brain, how many of them volunteer to be sold left and right, not necessarily to the highest bidder?

So I, as well as most of the class, agreed that the coercion part of it is definitely wrong. The Professor then went on and on about coercion, slavery, communism and a bunch of other shit that I tuned out when my phone beeped with a text from this smokin' hot chick that I had been trying to sweet talk my way into her panties for the last few weeks. No, I'm not a teenage boy, but at this point in time, yes, I still have sex on the brain.

But then Banner said something that caught my attention: all jobs are immoral because unless you were the top dog in your place of business, then you were being coerced into working by those above you or by the mere nature of capitalism. Okay, so maybe he didn't say 'top dog', but the sentiment was the same and the first thing that came to my mind after hearing that was Mike Mountain of Meat Newton pushing people around at the Ren.

One thing was for sure, I didn't work because that piece of shit boss of mine rode my ass to. But Banner was right, I didn't work for the fuckin' fun of it either. I worked because I liked to eat! I worked because I liked to come home at night and when I flipped the switch, I like to see the lights come on.

I rolled that statement around in my head for the rest of the class, and when he finally let us leave, Eric mumbled something under his breath that made me think: "If I can make five hundred bucks for half an hour doing somethin' I love to do, then I ain't being coerced into anything.'

"What did you say?" I asked him.

At first, he acted like he meant something else, but after a little liquid, Jack Daniel's coercion at the bar down the street, I had him spilling his guts. As the assistant concierge at the hotel where we worked at together, Eric was of course privy to the lewd and lascivious request of the guest and under obligation to keep those requests in the strictest confidence. The funny thing about Jack is that he always knows how to get information out of people.

Apparently, in order to fulfill these requests, Eric kept a damn rolodex of women willing to do something strange for a little change on fucking speed dial. Only we weren't talking about a little change. We were talking about no less, and usually much more, than three or four big face Benjamin's a pop. Or, a fuck, I should say.

These weren't your twenty dollar blow job in a dark alley kind of hookers. These women were professional. Boob jobs done by the best surgeons in town, lips like Angelina J, slathered with that eighteen hour, no smudge shit that made them shine like some of Exxon's finest. Payless was not a Shoe Source for these ho's. No, they owned stock in Louboutin.

So this was the deal: a guest would contact the Concierge desk and request these special services. Eric would make the arrangements, and under the guise of a bona fide chamber maid complete with maroon polyester uniform and gold plated name badge, the lady, and I use that term loosely, would deliver special services, or a stack of –code name—_towels_, to the guest's room.

Eric would receive a cut for making the arrangements and keeping everything confidential. Some could argue that this was exploitive in that Eric was the pimp taking an unfair portion of the proceeds. I didn't see it that way. Hell, the man was only getting twenty percent of three or four hundred dollars! Plus, it wasn't like he beat the women or enslaved them. His percentage was more like…a finder's fee! Yeah, that's it.

The only problem with the game he was running was now that word had circulated among certain circles about the "special services" at the Renaissance Hotel, not only were men requesting _towels, _but women were too! And Eric didn't have a rolodex of men willing to deliver them, it…whatever.

Therefore, he was delivering the _towels_ himself, and it was wearing him out. He was delivering towels seven or eight times a day, in the mornings, in between classes and late into the night. And being a novice in the oldest profession in the world, there was no way he could supply the demand these women were making on him. He needed help, and since I already worked at the hotel, and he knew I was poorer than a Madoff victim, he recruited me.

Of course, I had to keep my regular duties of manning the front doors, taking luggage to the guest's rooms, and helping the maintenance men with minor repairs. But when _towels_ were requested, I delivered them.

Between the two of us, we had the market cornered in _towels_. Eventually, we had to take on extra help, Edward and Emmett. Both men were out of work actors seeking to make it big on Broadway- or wherever it was actors went to make it big- but in the meantime looking for a way to pay the rent. The four of us were the only ones who knew about the _towels_. And anytime Mike gave me specific orders from Eric, he was under the impression that the real chambermaids had simply forgotten to supply the room with them while cleaning and an angry guest was requesting them.

The money was great, and there was nothing like coming home to food, lights and a working radiator. And while I wasn't feeling coerced or enslaved, I was feeling just a tad bit…immoral.

"Eric," I said through clenched teeth.

"Wassup, Whitlock? You delivering towels to sixty-nine?"

As if he didn't know. Fucker. "Nah, I'm the fuckin' Dominos delivery man. Pepperoni pizza, dipshit?"

"Hey, don't be mad at me. You can get out of this anytime you like, all you gotta do is say the word. I can get another guy in here who'd be happy to deliver towels." He wagged his eyebrows at me.

I was so fucking tired of hearing that. Yeah, I could quit, but where else could I make five or six hundred dollars for less than an hour's worth of work? Yeah, that's right, I got two extra large bills when I put my back into it. I had this thing I could do with my hips that drove the women wild…um…yeah, I digress. "What's the bio?" I asked, ignoring him and his shit eating grin.

"The name's Bella Swan; checked in just a little while ago and she's here in town on business. She doesn't know the deal about the towels—"

"Hold on a sec, she doesn't know about the _towels_?"

"Lemme explain first before you get your panties all bunched up." Eric looked to the right and then left, checking for any guest that may overhear. "She works for some mom and pop marketing company out in San Francisco and her boss felt Ms. Swan needed a little celebratory R-n-R after signing on a big time client today, so she called and pre paid for some special services for her favorite employee."

"Her _boss_ set this up?"

Eric shrugged. "Yeah, it was some blond Emmett worked over about a week ago; I think her name was Rose. Had legs a mile long and an attitude to match."

"How the hell am I supposed to go deliver _towels_ to this Swan chick and she didn't even ask for it or know what to expect when I get in there?"

Eric grinned like the shit flinging monkey he is and shrugged. "You're the expert, I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"I'm not an expert," I protested, pounding my fist on the desk.

"Easy there lover, you don't wanna damage the goods before our client samples 'em."

"This is the last time…"

Eric raised his eyebrows, waiting to hear what 'this last time' was.

The last time, what? The last time I delivered towels? The last time my light bill got paid on time? The last time…oh, who the hell was I kidding? The sad thing was, even though I could, and had, made a lot of money delivering towels, I still couldn't quit. What I had made had gone to paying off past debts and present concerns. So for me, the last time was still too far off.

I picked the towels up off the counter and turned away. "What'd you say her name was? Becky Bird?"

"Bella, Bella Swan. And don't forget it."

"Whatever," I mumbled as I walked away.

My feet felt like lead, and the business of picking them up and putting them down became a conscience thought instead of an involuntary motion. I passed the room and didn't realize it until I got to the end of the hallway and was facing the exit to the stairwell. How the hell was I supposed to deliver some _towels_ if I couldn't get my head in the game?

I doubled back to the room and knocked on the thick oak door. After the second knock went unanswered, I started to walk away, thinking that if Swan didn't know I was coming, there was nothing to keep her in her room when she could be out enjoying the city and finding her own way to celebrate her success.

But just as I turned to leave, the door opened a crack and a sliver of a nose could be seen between the door and the frame.

"Yes?" The word was mumbled and followed by a series of sniffles.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She wiped at her eyes. "Yeah, can I help you?"

Was she crying?

I didn't know what to say or do. Usually when I knocked, my guest knew I was coming and they were more than ready for me. It was normal for the door to be flung open in invitation, followed by me being dragged in by the lapels of my doorman's coat and then slammed back against the wall before being pawed at and stripped naked.

Yes, women are animals.

I started to sweat, trickles of water running down my back in under my arm. I fought the urge to scratch and held the towels up for her to see. "Um, towels. The maid forgot to leave towels." But like the clumsy moron I'd all of a sudden become, I dropped them all over the floor. "Dammit!"

"Oh, it's okay. I've got it."

As I bent down to pick them up the door opened and Bella Swan's right foot collided with the red metal tool box I had absentmindedly set down in front of the door. She gasped and grabbed her foot, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain.

"Aw shit!" I caught her arm as she listed to the side. "Here, let me help. I'm so sorry." I saw tears on her cheeks and immediately felt like a tool. And when she opened her eyes and looked at me, I forgot why we were standing so close together in the hallway.

I was hypnotized, lost in a sea of watery chocolate. Bella Swan was beautiful in an understated way and my eyes were drawn to the sensuous curve of her lips and the rose hued blush creeping up her neck.

"No, it's not your fault," she said in a breathless hiss. "I've been clumsy since birth. You'd think after twenty seven years I'd learned to watch where I was going."

She took a step and winced, her discomfort pulling me out of my stupor. With an arm around her tiny waist I helped her back into her suite and deposited her on the small sofa.

"Let me take a look-"

Bella pulled her foot away and tried to scoot away. The black skirt she had on inched upward, granting me a view of creamy thighs smooth skin. "No, no you don't have to."

I held onto her ankle and reached for her shoe anyway, at the same time trying not to stare at her bare legs or concentrate too hard on the fact that her skin did indeed feel as soft as it looked. "We need to make sure you haven't broken anything."

"It's okay, really," she insisted, practically swatting at my hand.

"What is it? Why don't you want me to look at your foot?"

She didn't answer, just turned beet red.

"You didn't paint your toe nails, did you?" I laughed.

She shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip. "I didn't have time to this morning. I went straight to my meeting from the airport."

God, she was sexy. I fought the nervous giggle building up at the bottom of my stomach. Really? Real men didn't giggle. I coughed to clear my throat. "It's okay, I promise not to judge."

She had barely finished nodding her consent before I had the shoe off and was inspecting her toe. It was swollen and red and the neatly trimmed nail was chipped on one side.

"Tell me if this hurts."

"It hurt, it hurts!" She squealed and flailed her hands around.

"Bella, I haven't even touched it yet."

She cracked an eye open and looked down at my fingers hovering over her toe. "Oh…well it hurts anyway."

"Can you move it?"

She bit down on her bottom lip again and grunted as she attempted to wiggle her toe. "Is it moving?"

"If you have to ask, then the answer is no. I think we should take you to St. Luke's for an x-ray."

"No, it's fine," she protested. "Just a little sore."

"Bella-"

"Hey, how do you know my name?"

Stupefied, I searched my brain for a plausible explanation other than the one where I told her I had been hired by her boss to rock her world. "I…um…I apologize for being presumptuous, Miss Swan, the front desk gave me your name with the order to deliver the towels."

She smiled brightly down at me. "Oh, it's okay, and you can call me Bella."

"Okay then, Bella, if we don't get your toe looked at, and it's broken, it'll heal wrong and you'll have a Quasi Moto limp for the rest of your life."

She shook her head. "It's not broken. I just need some ice and rest."

I started to protest but she held up her hand to stop me. "Believe me when I say that I've spent the better part of my childhood in and out of the emergency room for various acts of gravity failing me at the wrong time. It's not broken, it's just sore."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Aside from the ice, what can I do to help?"

"What's the tool box for?"

"I was told to check the light in the bathroom."

"Oh, I just checked in and haven't even been in there yet. If you could do that, and then get me the ice, that would be great."

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

"The card key is on the desk, just let yourself in."

I swiped the key and ice bucket off the desk and took off down the hallway toward the ice machine. As the ice plunked down into the bucket it occurred to me that I was no closer to fulfilling my obligation to my new chosen profession than I had been when I first knocked on the door.

I had no idea how to approach the situation, and scenes from very bad HBO porn's filtered through my head. The ones where the doorman delivers towels, slips into the room and bath only to find the attractive guest getting out of the shower with nothing to dry off on. Instead of leaving the towels like a professional doorman should, he offers to suck the water from her body and she readily agrees. They have wild monkey sex and he repeats the same thing a few doors down the hall with another hot lookin' babe.

Bow-chica-wow-wow!

I rolled my eyes. What the fuck was I going to do?

Bella Swan was no longer the client I was providing special services to. She was a face, she had a name, and in the five minutes I had been around her, she had personality. How could I knowingly seduce her without her knowledge of who I was or what I was hired to do?

But who was I? Wasn't I just like any other doorman? I opened doors, I hailed cabs, I carried luggage and just because I accepted money for sex didn't make me a prostitute, did it? And if I told her what had been requested on her behalf, what would she do? Would she agree, thinking that a walk on the wild side wouldn't hurt just this one time? Just because she looked like a very sexy Rebecca from Sunnybrook Farm, didn't mean she was. Or would she get mad, throw me out and tell the General Manager that there was a prostitution ring going on in his very high class hotel.

What to do, what to do?

With the ice bucket overflowing I raced back down the hallway, eager with anticipation. What a minute, what was I eager about? Just because Bella Swan had a set of killer legs, high firm breasts and big round doe eyes didn't mean I needed to be eager about getting back to her.

The option of not going through with the deal crossed my mind. But what if this Rose chick who Edward had tossed the week before found out that she had paid for services that weren't delivered? We could all be exposed and be out of the money we all desperately needed.

Edward and Emmett lived in a little hovel of an apartment, fighting for space with the cat sized rats and hissing cockroaches that threaten to invade their space. Eric went to school full time, worked full time and took care of his sick mother and four siblings. The cut he received from funneling our clients plus what he made on his own towel runs was just barely enough to keep food on their table and clothes on their backs. And with all the responsibilities I was carrying, I couldn't afford to let my conscious endanger any of us.

Right before I slid the card key home I whipped out my phone and sent a text saying that I would be home within the next hour. I had a job to do.

X-X-X-X-X

She wasn't on the sofa where I had left her. I heard sniffles, a sob and then, "You son of a bitch, don't you ever call me again!"

"Bella, Ms. Swan?" I called out as I made my way toward the bedroom.

There was loud crash, the sound of glass breaking and curse. Without knocking, I pushed open the bedroom door only to find it empty.

"Bella?"

"Over here," the small, tear choked voice said.

She was huddled in the corner on the other side of the bed, a broken lamp and twisted cell phone beside her.

I practically leapt across the bed, falling to the floor beside her. "Bella, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" After a quick visual inspection showed that she wasn't bleeding from anywhere, my heart slowed, somewhat, and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

"He left me," she moaned, tears in her eyes. "After three years, he left me."

"Who left you?"

"My idiot boyfriend broke up with me…through a text message!"

I looked down at the phone. "Just now?"

She wiped the tears off her cheeks. "No, before you came with the towels. I'd been trying to call him back since then, and finally got through just a minute ago."

Well that explained why she was crying when she answered the door.

What the hell do I do now? There was no way I could seduce her with the emotional upheaval she was going through. I had done a lot of shitty things in my life, but I had never taken advantage of a vulnerable female and I wasn't going to start now.

But I couldn't just leave her on the floor, crying with a broken heart and hurt toe.

"Um…let's get you off the floor and get this ice on your toe, okay?" I slipped one arm under her legs and the other around her waist before lifting her off the floor. "Do you uh…wanna talk about it?" I asked as I set her down on the bed and wrapped the make shift ice pack around her foot.

Bella opened her mouth and I swore she told me every dirty deed her fucktard ex-boyfriend had ever done to her. All the lies she had caught him telling, women she suspected he had inappropriate contact with, the money she had loaned him that he never paid back, and on and on.

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes again. "In truth, it's a relief. He's a jerk and I was about to break up with him anyway. He just beat me to the punch."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because I'm mad!" she yelled. "I wasted so much time hopping he would change, putting up with his bull shit when I could have been with someone who wanted me for me and not my…my boobs!"

I tried not to look down, I really did. But the simple fact that she drew attention to what I had been trying to avoid staring at in the first damn place made it near impossible not to look. Don't judge me, the girl was rockin' some seriously beautiful breasts and it would be a crime against heterosexual males everywhere if I didn't pay homage to and give them the credit they deserve by ogling them.

And wouldn't you know it, the silk blouse she was wearing with the top few buttons undone gave me just the right amount of peep show without it being dirty or degrading.

I was damn near struck stupid with a surge of lust and started stuttering worse than an old car with cheap gas. "I-I'm –"

"I can't believe I'm sitting up here crying over that bastard!" Bella took a deep breath and released it, her entire countenance took on a steadier, I'm in control appearance. "But you know what, it's time to move on."

"That's a good attitude to-"

When she said it was time to move on, I didn't think she meant it was time to move on to _me!_ Bella Swan grabbed the lapels of my coat and yanked me across the bed, causing me to lose my balance and I fell on top of her.

"Ms. Swan, Bella?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"_What?_"

"I saw you looking at my boobs," she accused.

"I was not-"

Yes, her lips were as soft as they looked. Momentarily stunned, I didn't move and I think I forgot how to breathe. I had made it a personal rule to never kiss one of my clients on the mouth. A lot of people in my profession followed the same rule only because kissing made the whole have-sex-for-money act too personal. To me, that was just a piss-poor excuse. Having sex, whether for money or not, was about as personal as you could get with anybody.

I didn't kiss on the mouth, because my kisses were reserved for two people, and two people only. Thos two people were the reason I did what I did, and the reason I would continue until I could make my way out of the hole I was in.

But when Bella arched against me, and moaned deep in her throat, my cock jumped to attention and I forgot all about my no kissing rule.

"What's your name?" she murmured against my lips, pushing my doorman's jacket off my shoulders.

"Huh?" I asked, stupidly.

"Name, what's your name?" she repeated, running the tip of her tongue along my jaw line and up toward my ear.

_Name? What's my name? I know I have one of those. Dammit, what's my name? _Bella lightly nipped the bottom of my earlobe with her teeth and making any kind of coherent sentence was beyond me.

"Riley," I panted as I extended my tongue and went in deep.

_What the hell?_

I have no idea why I gave her a false name. In all the time since I started delivering towels I had never lied about my name. It had never mattered to me that the women I serviced knew who I was. Most of them I would never see again and the ones who asked for a repeat performance never cared what it was in the first place.

For some reason, this didn't feel right. No, I take that back, the physical part of this felt very right. But the mental part of it, the part that screamed at me this was a mistake and it wasn't right to play substitute to who she was really missing and needing was wrong.

And then I felt the electric tip of her tongue and she hooked her ankles behind the back of my thighs, moving against me and pulling me closer and I shut the mental voice out of my head.

She met me thrust for thrust, our tongues swirling around each other, making love to each other. I felt her hand deep in my hair, tugging on the ends and pushing me downward. I broke the seal of our kiss so that I could run my tongue down the side of her neck, nipping lightly at the cords of her neck along the way.

"Bella-"

With a boldness I didn't think she had, Bella shoved her hand down between us and palmed my cock. "God, I love the way you feel against me."

_Holy shit on a stick, Batman_! Surprised, I jerk away from her.

"Riley, make love to me."

"Bella, we…I…um…"

Abruptly, she sat up, pushing me up as well and before I could protest or even talk her out of it, she had her silk blouse unbuttoned and off. The black see through lace of her bra hid nothing, showcasing tight rosy nipples waiting for some special attention.

_Do the right thing; I have to do the right thing!_

"It's not right…I don't…we can't do this," I said, shaking my head and trying to still her hands. "You're not thinking this through."

Bella pushed my hands away. "Don't tell me what I'm thinking or not thinking." After popping open the front closure of her bra, suddenly _I _was the one who wasn't thinking. That is, I wasn't thinking about doing anything but putting my mouth around one of her glorious nipples.

Tossing the lacy garment aside, she reached up and clamped a hold to the side of my face, bringing me down with her as she lay back down. "Touch me, please."

Naked to the waist and looking at me like she wanted me to devour her, Bella slid the side zipper of her skirt down, the parting of the metal the only sound in the room.

I was sitting on the fence of emotions. Part of me was screaming that this wasn't right. I couldn't do this to her. But the other part of me, the part that paid the bills and put food on the table was saying that this is what I had been paid to do and to protect the guys, I needed to follow through.

So which part won?

I rolled to my side, dug in my pocket and pulled out the two foil packets that had become as much a part of my uniform as the black polyester pants. Holding it up between my fingers I offered it to her.

If she needed to fuck her Ex out of her system, then I was going to offer up my services. I'd rather it be me than some random jerk off the street.

"You lead the way."

Bella snatched the condom out of my hand, and in a blink of an eye, she was completely naked and the way she was pushing and pulling on my clothes, she had me well on the way to being there too.

"Tell me what you want me to do," I said.

She pushed me over onto my back, straddling my hips. Unbuckling my belt, Bella pulled at my zipper and slipped her hands inside. Stroking me, she closed her eyes and breathed heavily through her nose. "The first time, I want it hardcore. Then, make me beg for it."

My cock was rock hard, and I was afraid that if she kept stroking me like that, I was gonna come in my pants like some teenage boy getting felt up for the first time. I ran my hands up her thighs and around to her ass, cupping and squeezing a cheek in each hand. "Open your eyes, Bella...open them and look at me."

Once she had them open and I could see clarity in her eyes, I brought my hands back around between us to the V of her thighs. With my thumbs, I parted the crease hiding her sex and teased her, touching all around her lower lips except where she wanted me the most. She squirmed, bouncing around on my dick, seeking the friction her body desired.

Needing to get control of the situation, I sat up a little, leaning back against the headboard. The scent of her arousal permeated the air, and I finally consented to what she wanted; stroking her, playing with her sex, rubbing it in circles. Bella threw her head back, arching her back and swinging her hips in rhythm with the pace I set, thrusting my fingers into her slick, wet heat. She bit down on her bottom lip, moaning and fisting her fingers in my tee shirt.

"You're a beautiful woman, you know that?" I asked, running my tongue up between the valley of her breasts.

"Please," she moaned.

I kissed the underside of her breast, nipping at the skin before running my tongue across to suckle her nipple. "Please, what?" I teased.

"Get inside me, please…please."

"No, no, no," I _tisked_. I added another finger and pumped in and out of her while I worked her clit with my thumb. "You're not supposed to be begging yet."

She whimpered and I could feel her walls clamping down on my fingers. Being purposely rougher than I knew she was probably accustom to, I grabbed her breast, pinching her nipple while I bit down on the other. And just as I suspected, she came hard, yelling the name she thought was mine as she did so.

I cursed, wishing it were my real name on her lips as her orgasm tore through her. Before she could recover, I stood up with her in my arms, turned and laid her back on the bed. "I'm not through with you yet," I murmured against her lips before kissing her hard.

Without breaking the kiss until we had to, Bella yanked my shirt over my head. I kicked off my shoes and pants with the boxers following. My erection sprang free, bobbing up and down, seeking Bella's heat like a heat seeking missile. I stood up over her, palming my cock and looking down at her gorgeously naked body.

With a smug smile, Bella spread her legs even further in invitation. "Get in me," she demanded.

"You put it on me." I tossed her the first foil packet.

Like a kid ripping the plastic off a lollipop, Bella tore into the packet and positioned the condom on the head of my cock. "You're bigger than I thought."

"You scared?"

"A little," she admitted with a shy smile.

"Good."

With slow, deliberate strokes, she slid the latex down over my shaft, teasing my balls with her fingers. I had to clench my teeth to hold back the groan. Kneeling one knee on the bed, I grabbed her leg and tossed it over my forearm. "You're gonna pay for that."

Bella said she wanted it hardcore, well then I was gonna to give her what she wanted.

"Good," she echoed my earlier statement, before I abruptly slammed into her.

Holy. Shit.

Bella's eyes went wide and her lips formed an _O_ shape before she clamped down on the bottom lip with her teeth. Her slick wet heat took my breath away and I thought the top of my cock was going to blow off before I could even start moving. How was it possible she could feel this good?

I gave her a hot second to adjust to my size before I starting moving, pistoning my hips in and out of her tight hold, my cock a solid shaft of power. Her head rocked back and forth on the mattress as I moved within her. Dropping my head, I bit down on one of her nipples, playing with it with my tongue and rolling it between my teeth.

"Hold onto me," I panted, planting kisses against her neck.

Whether she didn't hear me, or she wasn't connecting to me in the here and now, I didn't know. But I didn't like it and had to repeat my command before she complied. She might be using me as a means to fill some sort of physical hole caused by her Ex, but at the same time I wanted her to know who was fucking her.

And it wasn't _him_.

Bella hooked her other leg around the back of my thigh and I felt her fingernails digging into my back. With a move I'm sure she wasn't expecting, I swept her off the bed, turned and pushed her back against the wall.

She let out a groan, but that wasn't good enough. I wanted her screaming.

"I wanna hear how good I'm fucking you."

I could almost see her mental struggle, trying to let the past go and embrace the future. Whatever that may be.

It was clear she needed a push in the right direction. And I was happy to oblige.

I hit her with my hip swirl, putting my back into it, pumping in and out of her. The wall shook and the picture frame vibrated. Bella's head fell back and she arched her back, grinding her hips into mine. Her breath exploded out of her in short gasps.

"Let it go," I panted. "Let him go."

The sound of our grunting, sweaty bodies slapping together and the rhythm of that picture hitting the wall filled the air. Those beautiful breasts of hers swayed every time I slammed into her and she dug her nails deeper into my back. I felt her muscles tense, signaling her nearing release.

"Oh, _God_…"

"Let me hear it…who's fucking you?"

"Riley…oh God…"

Holding onto her, I turned and dropped her to the bed again, never losing my pace as I pounded into her. She was coming. I could feel her walls gripping me, tight as a fist. With her head kicked back and her eyes squeezed shut she let out a roar as she came.

X-X-X-X-X

I can't say that I'd ever had the pleasure of making love to someone. Even before I started delivering towels the girls I dated just wanted to be fucked. Sex was not an emotional connection, but a means to satisfy a physical itch. And up until tonight, that had just been fine with me.

I woke Bella up about an hour later with soft kisses up the inside of her thighs. Deep in a post orgasmic sleep, she came awake with her legs over my shoulders and my tongue inside her. It was something I had never done for one of my hotel guests before, but it was something I was willing to take a chance on for Bella.

With her fingers buried in my hair, I thrust my tongue deep, lapping, flickering and penetrating her until I felt her shaking with her release. But it didn't stop there.

Before she could fully come down from her orgasm, I had my cock surrounded by her wet heat once again, pumping in slow motion. Bella said that she wanted to beg for it, but she was wrong. She should never have to beg to be worshipped.

I only wished I could be the one worshipping her on a regular basis.

She clung to me as I worked her over, slowly and thoroughly and when she came, she softly whispered the name she thought was mine. I wiped the tears out of the corners of her eyes.

I ain't a pussy, but I wanted to cry too.

How could I leave her like this? How could I just walk away from what had just happened between us? But how was what we did any different than all the other times I delivered towels to my guests?

Because unlike all the other times, this time I didn't just put my hips and back into it, I put my heart into it.

And that was a very dangerous thing.

I held her until she fell asleep, dressed quietly and wrote her a quick note on the standard hotel stationary, leaving her to her dreams.

X-X-X-X-X

"You're home late," the soft, non-scolding voice said.

I dropped my gym bag down beside the door. After a night like the one I just had, only an hour of intense weight lifting and a steaming hot shower could take the edge off. Consequently, I arrived home much later than normal.

"Granny B, what are you still doing up?" Squinting in the dim light of the living room lamp, I bent down and kissed her cheek.

"I wanted to make sure you got home alright."

"You have a doctor's appointment tomorrow."

She waved her hand, dismissing the implication that she should be sleep and resting. Heaven forbid she actually take care of and worry about herself for once. "I'll be fine."

"How is she?" I asked, nodding to the tiny bedroom at the end of the hallway.

Granny B placed both hands on the armrest of the chair she was sitting in, did a little rocking motion and then heaved herself up and onto her feet with a short groan that comes from old age, uncooperative joints and years of fighting the disease that kept threatening her life. As bad as it killed me, I knew better than to offer my assistance as she took a sleepy step forward and wobbled. "She's sleep, and she missed you tonight."

"I know."

"I wish you didn't work so hard."

"I know," I repeated.

"You can't keep going like this," she stated.

It was the start of the same conversation we had been having for months now. I was tired of hearing it, but I knew she meant well. And besides, it wasn't like I had a choice in the matter.

"I've only got a few more weeks to go."

I opened the refrigerator, checking the small box of medicine vials that I paid dearly for to help keep her alive. "You didn't go to the pharmacy today?"

She didn't answer.

Just like I was tired of hearing the, you-work-too-much speech, I was sure she was tired of hearing the, make-sure-you-take-your-medicine speech from me.

"There's only two left, Granny B."

She pulled her robe closer around her small frame. "I'll be fine…I _am_ fine."

"But-"

She held up her hand to stop me. "Go see her, kiss her goodnight and get yourself to bed," she ordered. For a woman who wasn't quite five feet tall, Granny B was a force to be reckoned with. When she gave you an order, you followed through with it.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"Go," she said, pointing in the direction of the bedroom.

I kissed her cheek one last time and made my way down the hallway.

I could hear my girl as soon as I opened the door. She was awake, waiting up for me and as soon as she saw me, her eyes went wide and her face broke out in a one tooth grin.

"Hey baby girl!" I whisper shouted. She cooed and flailed her arms around. "How's daddy's girl?"

As soon as I picked her up, she simultaneously laughed and passed gas, a loud ripping sound that caused her to laugh even harder.

"You silly, smelly goose," I kissed her cheek, taking a moment to breathe in her baby smell: baby powder, diaper rash cream and the remnants of her last bottle manifesting in her diaper.

I laid my baby girl out on the changing table, and I as reached for a wet wipe I thought about all the towels I had delivered over the last few months. I thought about the four thousand dollars a month medicine I had to buy for Granny B and the diapers for my daughter and doctor's appointments my two favorite girls had to go to.

Simalac ain't cheap and they don't sell Huggies for the low.

My daughter looked up at me and flashed another semi-toothless grin. So yeah, while I might hate delivering towels, the towels were the only thing keeping us afloat.

I pulled the Dr. Seuss book off the shelf. "Alright little one, its story time and then off to bed for you."

Much later, when the apartment was quite and I lay in bed all alone, I clutched the pillow to my chest and thought of Bella. Images of the way my cock looked sliding in and out of her body. The feel of her wrapped around me and the tears she shed after she came, clinging onto me and whispering her thanks to me for serving her well.

I would never forget the way she smelled or the sight of her head kicked back as I pumped my fingers in and out of her.

And my heart would never be the same again either.

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><p><strong>Leave me some love!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

**I must be crazy. In fact, I know I'm crazy. **

**I work at FedEx, and no, I am not a driver. But as you can imagine, this is the busiest time of the year for me. I'm working six days a week, twelve hour days. So why am I writing this fic right now? Because I can't get this story out of my head. I cannot promise regular updates, and I cannot promise correct grammar all the time, as I don't have a beta at the moment. So please don't send me reviews telling me that my commas are off, or that I have run on sentences. If that bothers you, please don't read it. Simple as that. **

**I also can't promise long chapters or even a lot of chapters. I'm thinking this may be a mini fic of sorts...we'll see. The only thing I will promise is that I will finish it. I will never leave a fic undone. **

**This chapter has a lot of Jasper telling the background of what happened, instead of it playing out as it happens. At this point in time, I'm thinking that most of the chapters will be JPOV. But who knows, that may change too.**

**I hope you enjoy it, and if you do, let me know, let others know. **

**SM has her verison, and she's making a butt load of money off of it too! This one is mine.**

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><p><strong>JPOV<strong>

"Number thirty-two, step forward please. Number thirty-two!"

I looked down at the yellow ticket in my hand. Forty-nine.

Great.

Except for the two times I'd gotten up to change Ava's diaper, I'd been sitting in the same spot for nearly four hours. Three hours of mind numbing boredom after I'd spent the first hour filing out all kinds of forms, documenting personal details and trying to paint a picture of my finances.

Finances…that was a joke. How many ways were there to say, I'm broke? Let's see, zero plus zero equals…two? No, that's not right. Zero plus zero equals no lights, no food and no Huggies. And I couldn't afford to do without either.

Ava made a little snorting noise and snuggled deeper into the cocoon I had her wrapped in. Whoever the motherfucker was said that bad shit happened in three's wasn't kidding. The last few months had been…interesting to say the least.

First on the list of Jasper's life is shit was when Maria left me and our three week old daughter for some jack ass that made five times what I did and had a house in Fiji. We had been having problems long before the night Ava was conceived, and if it hadn't been for that bottle of Patron, my sleeping, eating and shitting little bundle of joy wouldn't be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Twelve months ago I'd decided that I didn't want to be tied to a woman who spent more money on shoes than Imelda Marcos. I was going to let her down easy, explaining that we were headed in two different directions in our lives. I was working on my MBA, and she was only concerned with her MRS. A good night out on the town for me wasn't drinking it up in some bar and then throwing up until dawn.

While hanging with the guys and watching sports was cool, I also liked going to museum's and concerts in the park. I actually liked volunteering at the children's center and unlike Maria, I did it without being mandated by court ordered community service.

I know you're probably thinking, _what_? Let's just say Naomi Campbell ain't got nothing on Maria Chivas when it comes to throwing cell phones.

Anyway, the night I was going to break it off with Maria a series of events happened that I still can't remember but ended up with us waking up together naked. Apparently, somewhere between this-relationship-isn't-working-for me and the double shots of tequila we were knockin' back, the idea of a condom wasn't even entertained. Eight weeks after that night she told me she was pregnant and then moved in with me.

We might not have had anything in common and Maria might be—is—the most immature woman—girl—I've ever met, but I wasn't going to live apart from my child. And if that meant moving the woman attached to the uterus carrying my child into my home, then so be it.

We slept in separate beds, spoke to each other only when necessary, and made plans to raise our child in a peaceful, co-parenting friendly environment. Except Maria had other plans.

I've never considered myself naïve, and I sure as hell ain't stupid, so how Maria managed to steal all my money is beyond me. Don't get me wrong, I was nowhere near what people might consider loaded or even well off, but I had a tiny nest egg that I had been building since I turned eighteen and inherited the money my parents had set aside for me before they died. I'd always kept my bank and credit card statements locked up and had never left anything personal lying around for inquiring minds.

On Ava's three week birthday I came home from work intent on spending the evening with my favorite little girl, reading to her and watching her sleep while I did homework. When I got home that evening, there was nothing out of the ordinary happening and Maria even seemed…pleasant. Which, when I look back on it, should have been my first clue that something was up.

She said that she needed to get out of the house for a little while, that she needed a little breather from being alone with the baby all day and that she was going to the store for diapers. I could understand that. Maria was used to being around people, socializing with her friends, not changing diapers and breastfeeding every few hours. Besides, I was more than okay with spending some uninterrupted time with my favorite new girl.

To tell you the truth, because we spent so little time together, I really didn't notice that Maria hadn't come back until the next morning when I was about to leave for work.

I knocked on her bedroom door, and when I saw that the bed hadn't been slept in, I started calling her phone. It rang three times before I found it stuffed between the mattress set. Not one for panicking or waiting for something to happen, I called Granny B and asked her to babysit. She was more than happy to do so and I managed to make it to work without being late.

But then everything went to hell from there.

Right before lunch my boss, Sam, called me into his office and instead of the praise I thought I was going to get for leading the efforts of the financial quality team recapturing over a million dollars in lost revenue, he accused me of doctoring the numbers and inflating the findings. There was no convincing him and the more I talked, and the more I tried to show him what my numbers were based on, the angrier he got.

He terminated me with a two week severance and had me escorted out of the building by the security guards. I wandered the streets for hours, trying to reconstruct in my mind what had just happened. But I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself. Secure in the knowledge that I had a savings account to rely on and that I everything would be alright the next day, I had a class to get to and then I had to pick up Ava before Granny B's gin rummy game started.

If I thought losing my job was the start of my own personal hell, I was wrong. Dead wrong. Losing my job was like a vacation compared to what happened next.

When I got home with Ava that night I expected to see Maria back and up to her old tricks of not speaking to me. What I got was an empty apartment. Literally.

The sixty inch screen TV I'd purchased a few months before was gone. My bedroom suite was gone. The leather couch and matching chairs were gone. The fucking pots and pans were even gone. My entire apartment, except for the baby furniture and a note on the mantle was all gone!

_Jasper,_

_I can't say that I'm sorry, because I'm not. I've never wanted to be a mother, and I just can't deal with a baby at this stage in my life. I need someone who puts me first, and you won't do that. You love her more than me anyway, so I'm leaving. _

_Sam has accepted a position in the LA office and he's asked me to go with him. He makes me happy and he puts me first. He proved that today when he fired you. _

_I want you to suffer, so I left you a little surprise in your back account. Don't ever try to contact me or come after me. Tell the kid I'm dead._

_Maria_

My hands shook so bad that I was afraid I was going to drop Ava. I put her to bed and immediately called the bank and then police. But just as I suspected, there was not much either of them could—or were willing—to do. Their empty promises of investigating the situation didn't leave me with hope that I would get my money or my furniture back.

I sat on the floor of Ava's room all night, pacing at times or just standing over her crib watching her sleep. Near dawn the next morning I took stock of what I still had going for me.

One, my tuition was already paid for the semester. Two, my rent was already paid up through the next month. Three, I had enough diapers and baby formula to last another ten days, and I had my two week severance check.

If I could find another job within the next week, I would be able to continue buying the things necessary for Ava. She needed to eat and she needed diapers and if it meant I ate Ramen noodles and grilled cheese sandwiches, then so be it. Ava would come first, no matter what, and then school. I was determined not to quit school.

That's how I found myself sitting in the Food Stamp line two months later. I'd found a job, two in fact, but it wasn't enough to pay the rent, bills, a babysitter and buy food. The idea that I would be using public assistance had never, ever crossed my mind. When my parents were still alive my father and I had regular conversations about work ethic and making sure that you could financially stand on your own two feet. Up until this point in time, I'd always had a job and money in the bank to fall back on.

Sure, as college student in undergrad I was usually broke, but that was because I spent my pay check on stupid shit like books, beer and girls. I was a typical college kid.

But as soon as I graduated and got a real job, the kind where you didn't ask if someone wanted fires with that shake, I'd been responsible with my money. And it killed me that I needed help now!

I looked around at the people that were waiting in line. Most of them were dressed modestly, not at all like I had imagined when Granny B suggested I apply for help. In listening to some of their conversations, they were just ordinary people who had fallen on hard times. Sure, there were a few people that _looked_ like what the media portrayed as welfare recipients, but who was I to judge anyone?

Every time I thought about what Maria had done, it made me want to murder her. It was one thing to punish me, to walk out on me and steal my stuff, but when it came to hurting our child –my child—I couldn't get past that. And by taking away my job, my security in providing for Ava, what she did was unforgettable.

Ava let out a little squeak of protest against me holding her so tightly, and I eased up. She held her curly little head up and looked at me before sighing and laying her head back down on my chest. Before she was born I had bought all kinds of strollers and baby carriers but now that she was here I only used one, the Maya Wrap. When I had her all wrapped up in it I looked like some sort of colorful kangaroo with a baby in its pouch, but I liked to keep her snuggled against me; it made me feel like I could protect her from anything bad in the world.

"How old is she?" the woman next to me asked.

"She's almost three months old."

"How sweet! Her mother must love the fact that you're so attentive to her."

"Her mother is dead," I said without emotion.

I could see the shocked expression on her face, but I didn't offer to soothe her embarrassment.

"Forty-nine! Number forty-nine!"

"Here!" I jumped up, slinging Ava's diaper backpack over my shoulder.

"Mr. Whitlock?"

"Yes, yes that's me."

She extended her hand to shake mine. "My name is Corinna Pope, and I'll be your case worker. Follow me, please."

Corinna Pope was a short woman with largest hips I'd ever seen and a high, squeaking voice. She led me down the aisle to the last cubicle on the left and motioned for me to sit. Mrs. Pope swung her hips around the edge of the desk, nearly upsetting the book case she was trying to avoid.

She spread my paper work out on her desk, laced her fingers together and gave a deep sigh. We stared at each other for a moment and I waited for her to begin. A full minute passed and she still hadn't said anything, just stared at me. I started to fidget under her tough scrutiny and Ava must have sensed my nervousness because she started to whimper. Was I supposed to say something first? I didn't know what the protocol in situations like this was.

Suddenly, Ava threw back her little head and let out a startling loud wail. I checked my watch, calculating how long it had been since her last bottle. My baby girl did not like waiting for her evening meal, and I was about ten minutes late in getting it to her.

The crying stopped as soon as I stuck the bottle in her mouth, Ava furiously sucking with baby grunting sounds.

"Now then, tell me what's going on?" Mrs. Pope said.

Wasn't it obvious what was going on?

"Um…I recently lost my job and I found another, two actually, but until I can get back on track, I was looking for a little assistance. I was thinking about the WIC program…"

She raised an eyebrow at me and scribbled something on the paperwork. "Uh huh, I see."

"…and uh, maybe food stamps…" I added. Sweat was running down my back. I mopped my forehead with the edge of Ava's blanket.

She scribbled some more, pausing to give me a one eyed look over the top of her half glasses and then resumed her chicken scratch.

"I'd also like to get some information about supplementing child care." As much as Granny B loved looking after Ava, with her chemo treatments there were days when it was impossible for her to do anything but sleep. On those days I stayed home from work and school to look after my girls, but when I stayed home that was money I was losing out on.

"And where is Mrs. Whitlock?"

I cleared my throat. "She left."

The scribbling stopped. "She left?"

"Yes, she left two months ago."

She put the pen down and pegged me with another of her looks. "Where did she go?"

"Hopefully to hell," I said bitterly.

"Excuse me?"

"First of all, she wasn't Mrs. Whitlock, her name is Maria Chivas. And second, she decided that she couldn't handle being a mother so she took off one night and then came back the next day while I was at work and cleaned me out of everything I own, including my bank account."

Mrs. Pope didn't bat and eyelash, just picked up her pen and started scribbling again. Ava decided she was full enough and pushed the bottle away. I sat her up and leaned her over to burp.

"You do realize that WIC is for women."

"It's also for infants, is it not? I have an infant." I nodded down at Ava.

Mrs. Pope looked down at Ava as she let out a loud juicy burp. I smiled like a proud Papa. It was too soon to teach her how to burp the alphabet, but I couldn't wait for the day when I could.

"I've entered the financials you submitted, and fortunately, you fall into a special category of households for whom a food stamp case would be open, but you don't qualify for any benefits."

I shook my head to clear it. Say what?

"What?" I asked, confused. If I didn't qualify for benefits, then who did?

She repeated her earlier statement.

"Wait a second, I can have food stamps _case_, but I don't qualify for _benefits_? What does that mean?"

"That means, Mr. Whitlock, if anything in your situation changes in the next three to six months, for example, if your income goes down or your expenses increase, you don't have to reapply. You simply have to inform us of the changes and we'll recalculate the benefits."

"So, if I get even more poorer than I already am, I have to come back in here and let you know?"

"Yes, that's right."

_Right, that made a lot of fucking sense._

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Get a job."

"I have a job!" I said angrily. "I have two jobs, an infant and I go to school."

"You need to calm down, Mr. Whitlock."

"Calm down? I've got a kid to feed, I'm barely able to pay the rent and eat myself, and you're telling me to calm down?"

Mrs. Pope abruptly stood up, her hips caught the sides of the chair and she brought the chair up with her. It fell back to the floor with a clatter that scared Ava. "I will not allow you to take that kind of attitude with me; I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"You have got to be kidding me!"

Mrs. Pope snatched up the phone. "I'm calling security."

I stood up and tucked Ava back into her cocoon carrier. "Don't bother, I'm leaving."

Trying to remain as calm as I could for Ava's sake, I left as fast as I could.

"Hey! Hey, wait up!"

I punched the down button for the elevator.

"What?" I demanded.

A short woman with curly brown hair approached me. "They turned you down, didn't they?"

"What's it to you?"

"They turn everybody down the first time. You just have to come back and reapply."

"Yeah, well sitting in this line for four hours don't pay my bills. I could've been at work making some money to feed my kid since I can't seem to get any help from them."

She shifted the baby on her hip. "Look, in exactly seven days they're gonna send you an appeal letter in the mail. You need to fill that out and send it back in ASAP. You'll have your WIC and food stamps in exactly thirty days."

"Yeah, that's all fine and good, but my kid's gotta eat in the meantime and childcare ain't exactly free, which means I gotta get to work."

She stepped into the elevator with me. "I understand, believe me. But listen, you need to go onto the websites of all the baby formula people and register with them. They'll send you samples and rebate checks to help you buy formula. And, you can check out ebay and Craigslist for bulk shipments of cheap formula."

"How do you know all this?"

She looked down at her son. "Heelloo…single mother, struggling to make it on my own."

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down. "My name's Jasper, and this is Ava."

She shifted her load around to shake my hand. "I'm Bree, and this is Seth."

"You got any more suggestions?"

"Yeah, check out the baby companies for coupons and samples. Also, when you register for the formula, tell them your baby isn't born yet, and they'll send you more samples. And, when they ask if you're gonna breastfeed or not, check that you aren't sure yet, and they'll send you more coupons."

"Hey, thanks. I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

"Got any ideas on affordable daycare?"

She smiled up at me. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Bree Tanner was a nineteen year old single mother who was promised by her boyfriend that she was his one and only. Until the day she walked in on him with his other one and only doing the naked tango. Her parents gave her an ultimatum, abortion or homelessness. She refused the abortion, and they put her out of their house, leaving Bree to fend for herself and an unborn child.

Determined not to fail, Bree worked two jobs while pregnant and lived at a women's shelter until the baby was born. She then qualified for public assistance, which provided her a small apartment, food stamps and WIC every month. Because she was a single mother and child care cost so much, Bree found a job cleaning offices at night where she could still work and keep an eye on Seth as he slept in his carrier. She spent her days in school, carrying a full load and majoring in biology; Bree wanted to be cardiologist.

The offices that Bree cleaned at night were downsizing due to the economy and at the end of the week she would be without a job. She needed the income and I needed a babysitter. Our schedules didn't exactly match, but they were close enough and with Granny B's help, I was sure we could pull it off.

Which is also how I found myself moving in with Granny B.

Bree and I agreed to watch each other's kid while the other was in class. And because Bree had some experience in first aid and assisting the sick and elderly, she would also be sort of a nurse to Granny B on the days she had chemo. It just made more sense for me to be at Granny B's full time instead of schlepping across town every time I needed to drop Ava off. It also saved me money, and I was able to keep an eye out on Granny B's health.

Maria might have won the battle, but I would be damned if she took the war.

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><p><strong>AN: If the food stamp, WIC info is not right, don't shoot me. I looked up a lot of that stuff, so blame Google.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**SM owns it.**

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><p><strong>JPOV<strong>

"Yes, I'd like to apply for an extension on my balance."

"Mr. Whitlock, you do realize that this is the third time you've asked for an extension."

"Yes, I do realize that, but I wouldn't ask if I didn't really need one."

What'd they think, that I was asking for an extension for the hell of it? Did they think this shit was fun for me, calling and begging them not to cut my phone off? I'd already downgraded to the cheapest plan and cut out all the extra shit I could. But going without a phone wasn't an option; I had to have a one to stay connected to Granny B and Bree, and I needed an extra week to come up with the remaining balance.

The deal Bree and I made was working out for the both of us. And by moving in with Granny B, I had even managed to save the rent money I would normally be paying out each month on my own place.

Things were starting to look up, but lately it seemed like when I got one step ahead, something always happened to put me two steps back.

We got the news about Granny B.

Her insurance company refused to pay for the medicine she needed, the letter stating that it was an experimental treatment, and therefore was an option, not a necessity. The doctor's were scrambling to find government assist programs to help subsidize the cost of the medicine, but until then we had a choice, either pay for it out of pocket or forfeit the chance to try it. The latter was not an option, as her window of opportunity for the medicine was best in her present condition.

The total price of the medicine was four thousand a month, and I only had half of that. Which meant I had to come up with two thousand dollars within the next seven days. Granny B was already living on a fixed income and couldn't spare a cent extra for the new medicine. She told me repeatedly not to worry about it, but according to her doctor, the success rate in the clinical trials had been astonishing and there was simply no way I was going to let this opportunity pass for her.

She was getting that medicine and I didn't care what I had to do to make it happen.

"This is the last time I can postpone your payment, Mr. Whitlock," the operator said.

"I understand, thank you very much."

"Payment is due on the fifteenth, and not a minute after."

I hated being nice and so agreeable to these fuckers. "Yes ma'am, I understand and I promise to have it in by the fifteenth."

I hung up with the phone company and called the Electric company to ask for the same damn thing, a motherfucking extension.

**X-X-X-X-X-X**

"That's all for today. Make sure to read chapter ten and check the online syllabus for the corresponding assignment," Dr. Banner said.

"If I can make five hundred bucks for half an hour doing somethin' I love to do, then I ain't being coerced into anything," Eric said.

We'd been having a class discussion regarding the ethics of prostitution.

"What did you say?" I asked him.

"Huh? Oh, nothing."

I caught up with him as we were walking out of the auditorium. "Yorkie! Hey man, hold up a sec."

"What's up?"

"What was that you said about making five hundred bucks?"

He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talkin' bout Whitlock."

Yeah right!

"Back there in class, you said something about doing what you love and making five hundred bucks."

He shrugged. "You must have heard wrong." He laughed. "I mean, look where we work. I know tips are pretty good for me, and with you being a doorman and all, they're decent, but they ain't _that_ good."

I knew he was lying, and if he had a way I could make some extra loot really fast, well then I needed to know what he knew.

"Hey, you wanna go down to Nick's Pizza for a beer?"

"Yeah, sure, that's cool."

There's an old saying, 'you gotta spend money to make money'. I spent thirty-five dollars that I should've been saving to get Eric drunk enough to tell me how he's making five hundred a pop selling sex. I'd never really hung out with him before, but sitting next to him at the bar I did learn a couple of things about Eric during his drunken slurs: first, it doesn't take much to get him drunk, second, he can't hold even the little amount of liquor he consumed and third, to be as skinny as he is, he can damn near eat two pizza's by his fuckin' self. He was shoving that shit in his piehole like a chipmunk storing up food for the winter.

When he started talking, all I could do was sit there and stare at him. When you're accustomed to working an eight-to-five, the idea of selling sex never really comes up as a contingency plan for when things go to hell. You just assume that if needed, you'd find another time clock to punch or another shift to work. It's when you get desperate, when you have the weight of the world resting on your shoulders and you don't know how much longer you can hold it up, or when you look into a pair of innocent eyes that rely on you to feed and clothe them, that you start to think and do things to survive that you never imagined you'd do.

I'd read those articles on the internet of men getting caught stuffing frozen chickens down their pants or women using their diaper bags to hide and steal baby formula. If I were honest with myself, at the time I'd read those articles I felt that those people deserved all the time in jail a judge could throw at them. Now, I was one of those people. Times were difficult for everybody, and I would do anything to make sure my daughter didn't go hungry or Granny B suffer because she didn't have the medicine she needed.

Whoever said that temporary lay off's and easy credit rip off's were good times was crazy. Scratchin' and survivin' was not on my list of things I liked to do.

Eric told me about his family situation, about how his dad walked out on him and four siblings, one of who had special needs and needed regular therapy in order to function. He told me how his mother would at times refuse to eat just to make sure her kids didn't go to bed hungry. He described the winters when they didn't have enough money to pay both the light bill and the gas bill, so they lit candles and oil lamps and camped out in front of the gas oven in order to stay warm.

And as he talked, all I could see were dollar signs. It would take me four "clients" to make the remaining amount needed to pay for Granny B's medicine. After that, each time I had a client the five hundred dollars I would earn would buy enough diapers and Similac to last for a while. I could pay my phone bill on time, stock up on groceries, make sure that Seth had a winter coat and that Bree had her textbooks for the next semester.

No, the last two items weren't my responsibility, but Bree helped me out when I needed it, and I wasn't going to turn my back on her when she needed things that were out of her reach to get. As far as I was concerned, she was my new little sister, and I would help her where I could.

It crossed my mind that once sober, Eric might try to weasel his way out of his promise to include me in on his little business venture, so I made sure to video tape his ramblings on my phone so I could play it back to him the next day.

If all I had to do was have sex for money, then I was never gonna go hungry again.

**X-X-X-X-X-X-X**

My instincts about Eric were right. The next day at work the little fucker tried to deny everything he'd told me. But once I whipped out my phone and did a quick play-by-play of our conversation, he folded and set me up with my first towel run, contingent on me passing an AIDS and STD test.

I was ecstatic, and felt a tremendous amount of relief thinking about how much money I was about to make. I also felt sick to my stomach thinking about getting naked with a perfect stranger.

I'd never had issues with pleasing the ladies before, but what if, right in the middle of things, I couldn't get it up? Perhaps I needed a back-up plan. Images of those Cialis and erectile dysfunction commercials ran through my head.

For the next twenty-four hours I was jittery and twitchy with a nervous stomach. Ava must have sensed something was going on, because she was fussy and refused her bottle. I tried everything I could think of to get her to sleep and even Granny paced the small living room floor bouncing her up and down and trying to walk her to sleep. Nothing worked, but eventually my baby girl tired herself out and fell asleep on top of my chest, her ear pressed against my heart.

A few days later I sat in the locker room at work, staring at the stack of towels on the bench in front of me, wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into. Had it really come to this, sex for money? In a half an hour I was expected to show up at suite fifty-four ready to rock some unknown woman into sexual bliss for five hundred dollars.

And then I was supposed to do it all again tomorrow too. Eric had me booked solid through to the end of the week.

"Hey, Whitlock!" Mike yelled. "You gonna deliver those towels or are ya just gonna stare at 'em all night."

_Well Mike, I was thinking about shovin' 'em up your fat ass_, I thought. "Yeah, I'm 'bout to head that way now."

"Well hurry the hell up, I've got a list a mile long of shit that needs to be done around here."

Normally, I would have shot him a smart ass comment or at the least, a dirty look and flipped him the bird. But not today. Today, I didn't have it in me to make fun of Mike or give him a hard time. I stood up, taking the towels with me. "I'll be back down in a few."

Instead of taking the elevator up to the fifth floor, I took the stairs. Yeah, I was stalling, and no, I didn't care. My core temperature was rising in correlation to my nerves and as a result I was starting to sweat buckets. Right outside of the stairwell I stepped into the janitorial closet and wet one of the towels so I could sponge off. Sweating was sure to be a factor in my new profession, but that part usually happened during, not before. I was sure my client wouldn't appreciate being handled with moist clammy hands or being dripped on before she got what she'd paid for.

When I was sufficiently dry again, I proceeded down the hallway to the suite. Before I had a chance to even knock my phone beeped with a text, and when I checked the small screen, it was a picture of me with Ava asleep on my chest the previous night, sent to me from Granny B. My nerves dissipated, somewhat, the picture an acute reminder of why I was doing what I was about to do.

It took one knock before the door was flung open and a short woman with black spiky hair drug me inside the room by the lapels of my coat. Because of the shock of being manhandled by such a small person, I dropped the towels in the doorway, but instead of allowing me a second to pick them up my client just kicked them further into the hallway and slammed the door.

"Um, hello."

She came at me, pushing my jacket off over my shoulders and pulling the end of my shirt out of my pants. "Take your clothes off," she demanded.

"Whoa, wait a second. Don't you wanna talk first?" I tried to still her hands, but she wiggled out of my grasp.

"My husband is in a meeting and due back here in two hours, so no, I don't want to talk, I want to fuck. Now take your clothes off."

I stopped her hands again. "Wait, your hu-husband?"

She stopped pulling on my clothes and threw her hands up in frustration. "What the hell is going on here? If I wanted to talk, I'd go to my psychiatrist, and if I needed the righteous police to guide me to salvation, I'd go to church and confess. Now I'm paying you good money to get me off, and so far the only thing you've managed to do is _piss_ me off."

"Look, I'm sorry but this is my first time, and I just thought we'd-"

She jumped back like I'd slapped her. "Dear Lord in heaven, please tell me you're not a virgin! I'll kill Eric if you are."

"No, no no. I'm not a virgin."

"Oh, thank God!" She clasped a hand to her chest and gave me a weary look. "But you've never…uh…um…."

I shook my head. "Is this how it usually is?"

"Well...this is my first time too, and we have to hurry because I have so little time to uh, take care of business." She shrugged, and came at me again, trying to undress me. I wiggled away from her. "But for other women, I guess it just depends on them."

"You said you have a husband…"

"Yeah, and as long as I'm finished with you and you're outta here by the time he arrives, Tyler's good with what I do."

"Are you serious?"

"What is this, an episode of Maury? I don't have time to explain." She grabbed my belt, undid the buckle and yanked my pants and boxers down.

"Hey, stop that!" My first instinct was to hide and protect my junk, which I tried to shield with my hands while backing up. Only I forgot that my pants were pooled at my feet, and I did a clumsy, pinwheel spin backwards, arms wind-milling to keep my balance. But I ended up landing half way on the sofa, half way on the floor anyway.

"Ohmigod, are you okay?"

I scrambled to get up, got tangled in my pants again and managed to fall completely on my ass, flaccid cock bouncing up and down and on display for her to see. In all my life, I'd never been so embarrassed.

"Look at me, are you hurt?" She knelt down beside me and poked me in the side with her bony finger.

Yeah, my male pride was hurt, and in fact, it had run away screaming like a little girl and was currently hiding out underneath the bed. Instead of making back up plans for possible erectile dysfunction, I should've been strategizing on how not to end up on the floor butt ass naked and limp as a dish cloth.

I took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer, hoping she wasn't staring at me below the waist. Even if my life depended on it, I couldn't get an erection now to save my natural life. Besides, I was almost sure that my balls had crawled back up into my body anyway. They knew when the gig was up and it was time to pack up and go the fuck home. "No, I'm…okay."

Okay was so far from where I was I couldn't even see it.

"Are you sure, you fell pretty hard."

I tried to move but my back practically shouted in protest.

"You hurt your back didn't you?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine," I said a little too harshly, lying through clenched teeth and trying to keep one hand over my cock. A sharp pain shot upward from the base of my spine. I sucked in a deep breath and expelled it slowly.

"Do you need help up? You could lean on me."

I gave a short hysterical laugh. My balls laughed too; there was no gettin' up for them. "No, just let me lie here for a moment."

She reached across me and pulled the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and then kindly spread it across my lap. Absentmindedly, she tucked the edges of the blanket in around me and laid a gentle, soothing hand on my shoulder.

"I once showed my naked ass to an entire department store."

"Huh?"

"I forgot to smooth my skirt down after getting redressed in the changing room, and when I came out, the back of it was tucked into my panty hose…and I didn't have any panties on."

Since the first time I fell, I opened my eyes and looked at her. "Why are you telling me this?"

She shrugged and smiled. "I didn't want you to feel bad about your naked dance just a moment ago."

She didn't say anything more and we stared at each other, the uncomfortable silence making me nervous. I scrambled for something to say.

"So uh…um…do you have children?"

Obviously taken aback, she stared at me, mouth agape like a fish. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

After staring at me for a moment, she dropped her head, and began picking at the cuticles on her fingers, the wall to her emotions going up. "No, I'm not a mother. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "You just seem like one."

She looked up at me and took a deep breath. "I want children, but Tyler doesn't. So, he gives me other things to make up for it. Plus, he's too busy for me, spending all his time growing his _empire_, which is why he doesn't mind this." She gestured to me.

"I'm sorry."

She gave me a half shrug and a small sad, crooked smile. "It's okay, it's not your fault I got caught poking holes in his condoms. So for the last seven months he's refused to touch me. He tries to make up for it though; I got a Hermes Birkin handbag last week, and a private shopping spree at Gucci scheduled for tomorrow." She tried to smile again but failed miserably.

What the hell could I say to that anyway? I had no words for her. What kind of man would push his wife to the side and let his job dictate his time and rule out any plans to expand his family? And then buy her expensive gifts and give her his blessing to have sex with other men to make up for is inability and unwillingness to be a real man and husband to her.

Not knowing what to do, I reached over and took her small hand into mine. I had a serious aversion to being the other half in helping someone commit adultery, but I knew what the score was when I told Eric I wanted to do this. And while lying here on the floor, half naked with a woman who felt unwanted and unloved still didn't make what we were about to do right, it would in some ways make her feel whole. If I could do that for her, then I wouldn't hesitate any longer.

"What time is he going to be here… perhaps we should get started."

She shook her head. "Maybe you should leave," she said in a small voice.

I sat up, making sure to keep the blanket in place. "What? Why?"

She pulled away and moved to the other side of the living room. "I-I just don't think this is a good idea anymore."

I stood, my back screaming in protest, and pulled my pants up underneath the cover of the blanket before dropping it back on the sofa. "Look, I-"

"I'm pathetic."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm pathetic," she repeated, louder. "Do you know what it's like to love someone with your whole heart, and they reject you every time you try to get close to them?"

"I…um…"

She ran her hands through her hair, making the ends stand up even more, and gave a short laugh, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm so pathetic I have to pay someone to touch me."

"That's not your fault," I said.

"The hell it is."

"It's not your fault that he can't see what's in front of him. It's -"

She held up her hands to stop me. "Look, I'll still pay you for your time, but please spare me the speech."

"It's not a speech, and like I was saying, it's not your fault he's a jerk." I thought for a moment. "You know, he may not even be a jerk, he could just be terrified."

"Tyler, terrified?" She shook her head. "Of what? He's the most intimidating businessman I know. He eats corporations for breakfast; he makes grown men cry in the boardroom."

"Yeah, but what does he know about babies?"

"Huh?"

"Does he know anything about kids?"

She thought for a moment. "No, he was an only child, of only children, so he didn't have any cousins or much extended family, and he moved around a lot when he was younger, so he didn't make many friends in school."

"Speaking from experience, babies and kids can scare the shit out of you if you're not used to them. Maybe he doesn't want any because he doesn't know how to take care of them."

"But we could go to parenting classes!" she protested. "Besides, all kids really need is love."

I nodded. _And diapers, and formula, and clothes, and a college fund and on and on and on. _

"Have you talked to him, really asked him why he doesn't want kids? 'Cause it's possible that he doesn't want to show his fears or weaknesses in front of you."

She was quite for a while, taking in what I'd just said. "I've never thought about it like that," she mumbled.

"Maybe you should talk to him tonight," I offered.

"Maybe I will."

And before I knew it, I was getting the entire history of how she met Tyler, a run-down of the three years they dated, places they'd gone and silly things he'd said to her. She told me about her family, her in-laws and how much she loved her husband. From what I could gather, he loved her just as much, if not more.

So how could two people that much in love be on totally opposite ends of the spectrum with each other?

When she finally took a breath, she'd launched herself into my arms, hugging me. "Thank you, thank you!"

"Uh, sure, no problem." I said, not quite sure why she was thanking me. I patted her back before sitting her down on her feet.

She grabbed my hand and started pulling me to the door. "You have to go. I wanna get ready for Tyler."

I laughed. "I hope it goes well."

"You'll come back next week, right?"

"Wait…what?" Didn't she just indicate that she was going to try to work things out with him?

"To talk to me," she explained quickly. "I want you to come back here at the same time next week and we can talk. I'll still pay you."

"I'm not a therapist," I said. "I can't give you advise or…or…"

"I know you're not a therapist, I've already got one of those. But I feel comfortable talking to you, and I want you to come back. Okay?" she asked eagerly and pressed an envelope into my hands.

I gave it back to her. "Wait, we didn't do anything."

"Yes we did; we talked." She gave it back to me.

"I don't even know your name."

"Alice, Alice Crowley."

And that's how I made my first five hundred dollars as a male prostitute.

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><p><strong>Leave me some love!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

**So sorry it's taken me so long to post this chapter. I re-wrote it five times and I still don't think I got it right. Remember, I don't have a beta yet, so please don't go pointing out the million mistakes!**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy it.**

**SM wouldn't dare!**

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><p>JPOV<p>

I wasn't so delusional to think that just because I had had a good first time out the prostitute gate with Alice that every other encounter would be the same. It was only a matter of time before I had my whore cherry popped nice and proper. And that time came the very next day.

When I was thirteen years old I was cast as Hamlet in my high school's adaption of the play. For weeks, Granny B ran lines with me, went over stages cue's with me and even stayed up late making my costume.

As I stood in front of suite thirty-five, I thought about that play and how Granny had coached me through the stage fright that had my stomach feeling like a sail boat on rough waters. She showed me how to breathe through my anxiety and how to shut my mind off, to disassociate my thoughts from what was really going on inside or around me.

When my client answered the door I was moving on auto pilot, speaking and responding to her without conscious thought. I barely even noticed the strapless, red lacy bra and panty set or the six inch stiletto she had on, and given what I was about to do it should have turned me on. As it were, I was doing everything I could to not be sick.

She told me her name was Lauren, she wanted me to fuck her from behind, smack her ass and talk dirty to her and if I could make her come twice, then she would pay me double. Sick as it sounded, the idea of making more money got me rock hard. That ignited all sorts of questions in my head about my morals and why the idea of money had such an effect on my libido. Would I ever be able to have sex again without assigning a monetary figure to the act? What if I ever got into a serious relationship, and in order to make love to my girl, she had to wave a few hundred my way?

I didn't have time to mull it over, seeing as how Lauren suddenly shoved her hand down my pants and grabbed my dick, commanding my attention. It was showtime, and I was ready for her to show me my money.

"Hold on a sec," I said, capturing the wrist of her hand that was down the front of my pants.

"Yes," she purred, looking up at me through hooded lashes.

Bile rose up the back at my throat as I looked down at her upturned, pursed lips. She had those shits glossed up, damn near dripping with some cheap ass lip goo. Cue my stomach retching. Right then and there I promised myself that I would never get into the habit of kissing my clients. My kisses were reserved for my baby girl and Granny B only.

I swallowed a couple of times to clear my throat.

From the moment I walked through the door, I felt a different vibe from Lauren than when I was with Alice the day before and if I didn't need the money so bad I would of immediately told her to fuck herself and high-tailed it out of there. But Lauren wasn't the only one that had me by the balls; the bill collectors had their hands down my pants too.

Fortunately for me, I had seen enough bad porn where the pimp's physically reminded their ho's not to forgot to get the money up front. I knew that if I didn't at least get the money in my hand, I needed to know where it was so when it was time to get gone, I wouldn't get short-changed.

She smiled, playing coy like she was some sort of seductress or something. That very smile told me this chick knew the game better than me and she understood what I was after. A cacophony of bells and whistles went off in my head, warning me to tread carefully with her.

"It's on the dresser," she said, pointing with her chin as she squeezed my dick.

I glanced over to where she indicated and saw five, one-hundred dollar bills laid out for me.

"You think you're cleaver, don't you?" I said, turning back to her.

She smiled again and pumped her hand up and down. "You know, this would be easier with your pants off," she said, pulling at the button and zipper of my pants with the other hand.

Even though the thought of being with her nearly sickened me, physically I couldn't help the way my body responded to stimulation. The disassociation trick didn't work on my dick and it was still rock hard.

Never being one for dramatics, I realized that if I was going to play the part of the good little whore and build up a list of repeat clients, then I needed to amp it up a bit more. I threw in a little moan for her pleasure, and she damn near preened like a cat.

"You like that?" she whispered.

Instead of answering her, I leaned forward and nuzzled her neck, running my nose and lips up the column of her throat. "Where do you want it?" I asked, nipping at the lobe of her ear with my teeth as I walked her backward further into the suite. It was time to get this over with so I could get the hell away from her.

Her breath caught as I ran my hands upward from where they were resting on her hips to the middle of her back, unhooking her bra. Lauren tighten her hand around my dick in anticipation, not knowing what I was about to do but clearly excited about it. Next, I extracted her hand from inside my pants and before she could guess what was about to happen, I spun her around, pinned her arms behind her back and securely wrapped her bra around her wrists.

"What are you-"

_SMACK! _I slapped her ass. Sure I had tied up a girl before but sexual dominance wasn't something I was familiar with and I was scared that when she didn't immediately respond, I'd hit her too hard. She cut me off before I could apologize.

"Ohmigod!" she panted and wiggled her ass against my crotch. "That's so fuckin' hot."

I let the breath I'd been holding out in a sigh of relief. Now what do I do? What the hell am I supposed to say in response to that? I wasn't ready for this. Sex I could do, but beyond tying her up, I was lost. It wasn't like this shit was in a handbook. They had handbooks and how-to-guides for everything from how to set up a web page to how to artificially inseminate yourself now. But somehow I didn't think they'd have a copy of 'Whoring for Dummies' or 'How to be a Sexual Dominant' on the shelves at Barnes and Noble.

I would Google it later but for the time being, I'd have to wing it the best way I could.

"I didn't say you could speak," I said directly in her ear before bending her over the back of the sofa and slapping her ass again.

She squealed and wiggled again. Fumbling for what to do or say next, I decided to do what I normally did when I was about to get busy with a girl, accept in this case I'd just do everything to the tenth power.

Instead of slowing caressing her skin as I shimmied her panties off, I pawed at her breasts and ripped the little lacy triangle down the front. She moaned like a bitch in heat when I touched her clit and called her a dirty slut. A couple more ass slaps with a few dirty words thrown in and foreplay was over; it was time to seal the deal.

There was nothing about this that turned me on and I had to fight to keep from gagging at the thought of touching her. I took off my pants and suited up, making sure to double the condom because I wasn't taking any chances. I slammed into her just as hard as I had been slapping her ass. And then I stopped…something was wrong.

Something was way wrong.

Like I'd said before, I knew how to do the whole sex thing and had done it many times before; I even had a kid as proof of my previous work. But this time the feeling wasn't right and it literally had me taking a pause to scratch my head.

"Don't stop now," she panted.

And then it hit me; this girl was like a bus route…everybody had taken a turn. Her vagina was as wide as a tunnel and there was no grip, no suction no nothing to keep me anchored inside of her.

Hadn't this bitch ever heard of Kegel?

"I didn't tell you to speak," I said and with a fist in her hair, pulled her head back. She grinned at me and I threw in a 'bitch' at the end.

Then I bit the side of her neck and started moving again, putting my hips and back into it, pumping as hard as I could. By the time I felt the stirrings of her first orgasm, I was sweating and breathing like I'd been doing hard labor. I'm sure digging a ditch through granite rock would have been easier.

I let her scream out her orgasm without reprimanding her for making the sound.

My back was hurting and my stamina was starting to wane, but I knew that if I made her come too quick the second time, it would kill her interest in me. Bitches like her needed to be kept guessing and that would keep my paycheck coming.

So I pulled out of her and took a step back.

Stunned, Lauren looked over her shoulder with an open mouth prepared to speak. But before she could say anything I spun her around to face me and shoved her panties in her mouth. "Suck on those and keep your mouth shut," I ordered, slapped her lightly on the cheek and walked over to the bar to pour myself a drink.

Instead of pouring the whiskey in a glass over ice, I turned the bottle up and downed a couple of swallows. The liquid burn down the back of my throat, hopefully clearing away the bile in my mouth that images of her brought up.

Fucking this woman was hard work and I was tired as hell.

Her eyes followed me as I walked around the room. I was stalling, taking a small respite to figure out what to do next. Making my way over to her while still holding the bottle, I looked down at her upturned face.

"Are you still wet?" She started to spit the lacy fabric out, but I held up and wagged a finger to stop her. "No, no, no, you are not to speak."

She nodded her head, bobbing it up and down eagerly.

"How wet are you, hmmm?" I asked, circling one nipple with my thumb and then pinching it.

She moaned and closed her eyes as I captured the other nipple between my teeth, pinching and rolling one while I sucked and bit the other. Turning the bottle up, I took one last swallow before sitting it down on the end table.

Lauren ground her pelvis against me, seeking any kind of friction I'd let her have. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I slid my hand down over her mound and into her pussy, playing and working her clit. She spit the panties out, panting so hard I thought he was going to hyperventilate.

"Please fuck me," she begged as I pumped my fingers in and out of her. "Please…please…"

I ripped her bra from around her wrists. "Hold onto me," I said, took two steps forward and picked her up, slammed her back against the window and impaled myself inside her at the same time.

The back of her head bumped against the glass of the window as I pounded into her. She clawed at my neck and shoulders, trying to hold on for dear life. It didn't take long before she was coming, screaming at the top of her lungs.

When I was finished with her she was thoroughly satisfied and booked me for the same day and time the next week.

Funny how the reality of doing something never really hits you until you actually experience it. As soon as I pulled out of Lauren, I was sicker than I had ever been. It was a miracle I was able to get through her oh god, you make me feel like I'm flying speech without throwing up on her.

As soon as had all my money I stumbled out of the suite into the hallway and collapsed, sliding down the wall and clutching my stomach. One of the chambermaids found me curled around myself, dry heaving and gasping for air and pulled me into one of the rooms she had just cleaned.

"Good God Jasper, what the hell's going on?"

"N-nothing…I'm…okay…" I said, falling onto the bed. My stomach felt worse than the time I had food poisoning and threw up for three hours straight. It felt like ants were crawling under my skin, and I clawed at my arms, chest and legs like a crack addict needing a hit. I was shaking, my teeth were chattering and I had broken out into a flop sweat.

"Okay? The hell you're okay! I'm gonna call nine-one-one."

I reached for her hand but when I remembered who I had been touching, I snatched it back. Chelsea didn't deserve to have that kind of funk on her. "Chelsea please, I'm okay."

"Jasper, look at you!"

"I'm fine…really. Please," I begged her. "Just let me lay here." I pulled the blanket up from the end of the bed and burrowed under the covers.

"I don't know, Jasper. I don't want you getting any worse, you look really bad."

"Will you just… leave me here… alone for a while?"

She hesitated before blurting out, "Are you on drugs?"

"What? No, of course not!" I sat up, trying to looking like I wasn't dying. "I just need a little time to…to regroup…and…ah…I promise I'm okay."

She sighed and checked her watch. "I'll check on you in one hour exactly, okay?"

I nodded, and burrowed back under the covers. "Don't tell anyone I'm in here, 'kay."

"Only if you promise to help me clean up in here later."

"Deal."

As soon as I heard the door close, I fell apart, crying and shaking worse than Ava when she didn't get her bottle or diaper changed on time. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what was causing me to react the way I was. Perhaps it was a guilty conscience or maybe it was the fact that I had just sold my dick to the highest bidder and on top of that, made arrangements to do it again and again.

_It's just a job_, I told myself. How many times would I have to repeat that lie to myself before I believed it? How many times would I have to degrade myself before I no longer cared? How would this affect any future relationships? Now that I had ventured to the other side, would I ever be able to go back?

I laid there for a while before getting up to take a shower. Staring at my reflect in the mirror nearly brought me to my knees again with the shakes, so I covered the damn thing up with a towel and turned the hot water to near scalding before I climbed into the stall. Given the fact that I didn't finish inside of Lauren, I half expected my cock to still be ready for another round. But it seemed just as disgusted with its new lot in life as I was, and lay dead against my thigh.

When I finished trying to sear my skin off my body with the hot water, I redressed in my uniform and called Chelsea to bring up her cleaning cart. She seemed to sense that I didn't want to talk, and we worked in silence to get the room ready for the next guest.

"Hey, thanks a lot," I said.

"I don't know what's going on with you, Jasper, and I know you've had a tough time adjusting to being a single father, but if you ever need to talk, I'll listen," she said and hugged me hard.

In a world full a hatred, where men and women hurt each other and sometimes mothers abandon their babies, it was comforting to know that some people still cared.

"Thanks Chels, I 'ppreciate that more than you know."

If I made it this far, I could make it another day.

* * *

><p><strong>Leave me some love!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys, so sorry it's been ages since I last updated. In the past couple of months I met, started dating and then broke up with man who I thought was 'the One', changed jobs, moved back across country and into my parents house temporally, went to Italy for a few weeks, moved out into my own apartment and now I've resumed dating the same guy who I no longer think is 'the one', but at least is fun to hang out with. **

**So this chapter is a little slow moving and sweet. No, it's not beta'd, so please don't flame me for my mistakes. I know there are moments where the tense changes, but just bare with me, I've had writer's block for months. **

**Let me know what you think.**

**SM owns it. **

**Chapter 5**

**JPOV**

"How may I be of service to you ma'am?"

It was a few days after the Lauren incident and I was back at the Ren, hauling luggage for rich lazy ass holes and delivering towels to horny bitches. Suite twenty-two was a petite pale blond with large inquisitive, clear azure eyes and this uncanny way of turning her head and staring at me without really seeing me that freaked me out and made me think of Children of the Corn. Her eyes were so clear blue that I wondered if they would shine like flashlights in the dark. Jane was slightly on the skittish side and fidgeted when she was obviously nervous about something, which she was currently doing.

We had been standing right inside of the doorway of her suite for the better part of about ten minutes basically staring at each other and exchanging broken pleasantries. She knew why I was there, and it damn sure wasn't to deliver fluffy white towels.

She'd yet to make a move and I was starting to get irritated. I had other shit to do beside stand here and make nicey with the strange chick. It was time to get down to business and get the hell out of there with my money.

"How may I be of service to you ma'am?" I repeated my question from before, trying not to let my impatience show.

She looked up at me with those headlight eyes and then blushed, turning her head away so that I couldn't see her embarrassment.

Those damn eyes gave me the heebie-jeebie's and it was all I could do to keep my feet firmly planted inside the suite. "Why are you afraid of me?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. _She_ was the one who called _me_ and it was ironic that I was even asking her that, as it was sure as hell the other way around. _I'm the one that should be running for fucking the hills. _This chick was intriguing me and freaking me out at the same time.

"I'm not afraid; I'm not afraid of anything," she insisted through clenched teeth.

Her balled up fist and the slight sheen of perspiration on her forehead told me otherwise. This girl – young woman – was close to being terrified of what was about to happen.

"Jane, we don't have to do this. I can leave and no one has to know I was here. I-"

"NO!" she yelled then cleared her throat. "I mean, please don't go." She slipped her hand into mine, holding on almost as if for dear life. "I just…I need to…" she took a deep breath and exhaled, "I want to do this, I'm just not sure…how to do it…."

_Whoa! She didn't know how to do it?_

If she didn't know how to do this then I was certain that I didn't want to be the one to show her. Banging chicks for money was one thing, but de-virginizing an inexperienced one was another matter altogether. Too much emo baggage for me.

I reached for the doorknob. "Umm…yeah, I don't think this is gonna work so…."

"No, no, that's not what I meant! I mean, I know _how_ to do it, or rather I know how it's supposed to be done…it's just that I don't know how… to _say_…it."

"You don't know how to _say_ it?" I asked, eyebrow raised. "Just say whatever's on your mind."

She gave me another I'm-gonna-eat-your-soul blank stare and then blinked a couple of times before answering.

"No one's ever cared what I thought about anything," she said softly and looked away again, "especially the man I was married to." She released my hand and moved away from me, going to the bar and pouring a drink. The small glass shook in her hand, sloshing twenty-one year old Glenlivet on the marble surface.

"Your husband-"

"_Ex_-husband," she said in a tone of disgust, almost like she was going to spit or gag at the thought of being married to the man.

"Okay, your _ex-_husband never-"

"My parents were...different," she interrupted. "We were missionaries in South America and my father was head of some made up crack pot religion that taught among other crazy things that females were to be totally submissive to their family heads under all circumstances."

_Well that explained the old-woman business attire she was sporting,_ I thought, eyeing the high neck silk blouse, drab color pencil skirt and low kitten heels.

She continued, "When I was sixteen my parents told me they had decided it was time for me to meet the man they had chosen to be my husband. They didn't care that I wanted to go to college, that I wanted a life different from the one I had been forced to live since I was old enough to speak. I finished my high school exams on a Thursday night and on Friday morning they forced me down the aisle to marry a man twenty-three years older than me."

"Why didn't you do something?"

The glass slipped out of her fingers and shattered on the bar top.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"What was I supposed to do?" she demanded, turning those eyes on me. With shaking hands Jane angrily wiped at the spill but then gave up and tossed the bar towel in the sink. "I'd spent my entire life around the members of my church; it was the only life I knew. Under my father's direction, the deacons used to publicly whip the women who they felt stepped out of line, even for the tiniest infraction, and if they didn't beg hard enough or long enough for forgiveness they were taken to the back room and…and…"

"Okay, okay I'm sorry. That was stupid of me to say," I said quickly and moved to take her hands into mine. "Come, sit down."

"No, I'm fine. I don't want to sit down." She pulled away from me and walked around the room for a moment to gather her thoughts. "I was married for three long years and two even longer days and in all that time the piece of shit I was married to never once tried to make me feel anything but pain when we were together sexually."

Well what the hell was I supposed to say to that?

"I'm sorry," I said lamely, again. I really needed to come up with somethin' better to say.

She shook her head and dropped her eyes to her fingers, picking at a cuticle on one nail. "I've never had an orgasm," Jane said so softly that I almost didn't hear her. "He never really hit me or anything, but he didn't know the meaning of foreplay and didn't care if I were ready for him or not. I was just the vessel to stick his cock into whenever he was in the mood."

"Jane, I don't think that this-"

"Don't tell me that you don't think this is a good idea," she said, breathing heavy with anger. "I'm finally in a good place in my life. I got away from him, went to college and I have a really good career. I have a house and a dog and a few friends that care about me. So I'm ready for the next step."

"A woman's worth is not determined by what happens in the bedroom," I argued.

"Don't you think I know that? It's not about determining my worth. I wanna know what it feels like," she insisted. "I want to have a meaningful adult relationship that involves amazing sex and in order to do that I need to know that something's not wrong with me down there!"

And when she spelled it out like that I understood what she was seeking: to feel like a woman. Jane wanted to know what _real_ sex felt like. She needed reassurance that just because her idiot ex-husband was selfish, mean, neglectful and didn't know what the hell he was doing in that department, that it wasn't her fault and that all men were not like that.

But what the hell qualified me to be that person?

And cue my conscious tapping me on the shoulder.

Jane deserved to be with someone who genuinely loved her, who could make _love_ to her, with her. She was worth more than a quick fuck with a man-whore who had another pay-for-sex appointment either the same day or the next.

And then I remembered the bills I hadn't paid yet for the month. Why the hell should I care who she wanted to fuck? What was it to me why she wanted what she wanted, as long as I got paid to deliver?

I couldn't do this to her, it would be wrong on so many levels. I felt like the cartoon character with the devil and the angel sitting on opposite shoulders, each making a good point for their side.

"Surely there's got to be a man in your life that you can do this with? A friend? A friend of a friend?"

She shook her head. "My friend doesn't look at me in that way," she said softly.

"How do you know? Have you told him that you're interested in him? Maybe he's shy too. Have you asked him out for coffee or even just over to your house to hang out?"

"He's my best friend, and I don't want to ruin that." She came and stood in front of me. "Please Jasper, will you do this for me? I'll pay you more."

"You don't know me, you don't trust me. Why me?"

"Because when I called Eric and told him what I was looking for, he said that you would know what to do."

"_What_?"

I was gonna fucking kill Eric! I had only been at this for a few days and he was already pimping me out like I was some kind of a pro at this.

"He said that you were kind and gentle and that you genuinely respected women. And when you came in here, you didn't immediately jump on me or demand money up front, but you chatted with me for a few minutes, and…and you seem like you're missing something out of your life too."

I paced around the room for a minute thinking about what she said. Everybody, no matter who they were, deserved to feel desired, needed. And when you're with someone who doesn't provide that for you, then you can certainly feel it and it makes you feel empty in every part of your life.

"Jasper, please."

After the Lauren incident if I had any doubt that Hell had a special place for me, I was sure of it now.

_At least it's me, and not some jerk off the streets_, I tried to rationalize in my head and pushed the imaginary angel off my shoulder.

I cleared my throat, took a step forward and rested my hands on her hips, pulling her in close to me. Her back was ram-rod stiff and I knew if standing this close to her and just talking was making her uncomfortable, then I had my work cut out for me. Leaning in close to her, I said, "Close your eyes and take a deep breath, Jane. Please," I added when she hesitated.

She took a deep breath and did as I asked.

"Promise me you'll relax?"

No matter what I did or how much foreplay was involved, if she wasn't relaxed and comfortable, it wouldn't work and it'd all be for nothing. She would be even more insecure than before, and I told her as much.

"Y-yes, I promise." She nodded, looking into my eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you. You are in complete control, so anytime you want me to stop, or do something different just say so. Okay?"

She nodded again.

"Please, I need to hear the words, Jane. I need to hear you say you're in control," I whispered near her ear.

"I-I'm in c-control," she stuttered. "And I want this."

**X-X-X-X-X**

Once again I was in situation where I didn't know what the hell I was doing and flying by the seat of my pants. I had no idea so much was involved in selling sex. Who knew that delivering towels would require me to be part whore, part pop psychiatrist? I should've gone to freaking Med school instead of trying to get my M.B.A.

If I was going to get Jane to relax, I was going to need to create a scenario familiar to her and based on her having the hot's for the friend she was too afraid to tell how she felt about him. Maybe if she could play out her fears and insecurities with me then she could confront them in real life too.

I took a deep breath.

"Do you want to play a game? Imagine you've just arrived home from a business trip, stressed out because the people you work with are total loser's and don't know shit about what they're doing," I whispered near her ear, running a finger along her exposed collar bone. Her skin was so soft and damn near translucent that I almost pulled away, not wanting to soil her in any way with the filth I had become over the last few days of running towels.

She laughed nervously. "You're right about that."

Her hands were clenched, bunched up in the material of my doorman's coat and I ran my hands up and down her back, trying to get her to relax.

I lowered my voice an octave or so, leaned in and spoke in her ear while nuzzling it, trying to lull her with the sound of my voice and lips. "What's the first thing you do when you get home?"

She closed her eyes and leaned in closer to me. "Uh, n-nap. I take a nap."

"So you kick off your heels, pop a few buttons open on your blouse and lie across the bed, just to decompress for a while before unpacking and starting dinner."

Because I had mad skills even before I started whoring myself out professionally, I deftly popped a few buttons of her blouse open without her even noticing. The white lacy push up bra underneath belied the matronly silk blouse and skirt she was wearing. Made me wonder what other secrets she was hiding.

I was willing to bet Jane LeClaire was a sexpot in disguise.

Her jaw muscles relax infinitesimally and I gently start to turn her and walk her backward toward the bedroom. I continue, "Just as you get comfortable, you hear a key in the front door and a slight creak as it opens. Someone calls out for you and it's…"

"P-Peter," she said almost breathless, catching on to the story I was weaving. "My friend and really cute neighbor."

The excitement in her voice at the mention of him was undeniable. I'd hit the nail on the head with her fantasy.

"Peter's come over because…"

"He's dropping off my mail," she supplied. "He's always gets it for me when I'm out of town, and waters my plants too."

"Hi Jane. I didn't realize you were home," I said. "No don't get up; I'll just leave your mail on the table and go."

Her eyes pop open but then close immediately like a sigh of relief when she realizes that no, I'm not crazy, just that I've slipped into character and now pretending to be Peter. She takes a couple of deep breaths to steady her nerves and continues the charade, this time with her eyes open and a fierce determination glowing behind them.

"Uh, umm…no don't go."

It doesn't seem to faze her that I've managed to get her into the bedroom and almost on the bed without her initially noticing. Nor does she see that her blouse is unbuttoned to the waist and her rosy nipples are peeking out through the fine lace of her bra.

But I certainly notice and surprisingly, I'm genuinely turned on by it. I want to pause and ponder what that all means, but of course this is not about me and my libido but about Jane and getting her to the big 'O'.

"Are you sure, you look kinda tired?"

She really did look tired despite the new curiosity in her bright eyes.

"Yeah, it's been a long day." She laughs nervously and tucks her long blond hair behind her ear. "That ache in my lower back is back; those airline seats aren't forgiving."

I can feel this whole thing starting to sound and look cheesy like a Lifetime Movie of the Week, but then it doesn't have to be some elaborate scene to accomplish what we're trying to do. I lace my fingers together and flex them. "Well then let me have a look, you know back rubs are my specialty."

Jane blushed from the tip of her nose to the tips of her ears. "That's okay Jas- I mean Peter, you don't have to."

She's about to slip out of the scene and revert back to 'scared Jane' so I lean over and frame her face between my hands to remind her who was in front of her. "Jane," I whisper, caressing her check with my thumb, "let me, your best friend Peter, take care of you."

She swallowed which was rather like a big gulp and nodded like one of those bobble head dolls. "O-okay."

"Good, now lie down on your stomach like a good little patient, please." I have to remind myself to use and stress the word 'please' because I don't want her thinking I've taken the control away from her.

Jane reached up to twist her hair up and out of the way but I stop her. "Will you leave it down, please? You have beautiful hair."

She really did have beautiful long hair that curled into ringlets on the ends.

"Oh, okay, sure. Uh, do you want me to...uh, well…." She looked around nervously. "Forget it."

If I had to make her tell me what she wanted, then I was going to do just that. "No way will I forget it. I'm listening, Jane. What do you want to tell me?"

She took a deep breath and fidgeted with her fingers again. "Take my shirt off? I mean, should I p-put something else on?" she asked in a tiny voice, sounding very uncertain and almost out of breath.

This was never going to teach her a lesson in expressing her own feelings if she was not sure of them herself.

Of course I heard what she said, but I wanted her to make up her mind about what _she_ wanted and then demand nothing less. "I'm sorry, what? What was that?"

Jane is a very smart woman. She knew exactly what I was getting at and changed her tactic to match what I had been trying to get out of her. "I'm going to take off my shirt," she stated boldly.

I dipped my head, pretending to be shy like I imagined her Peter to be. "If you think that's best."

For the first time she looked down and noticed that her blouse was already open. "Oh." She blushed a deeper shade of red and glanced up at me with a small crooked smile on her lips. Her fingers were shaking but she managed to get the rest of the buttons undone and the shirt off.

"That's a really pretty bra," I said. "And you have beautiful breasts."

To keep from covering herself with her hands, she sat on them. "T-thanks." She peeked at me and dropped her head again.

"Well, if you want you can turn over and lie on your stomach," I offered. "It might be more comfortable that way."

Slowly, she kicked off her shoes and turned over to lie across the bed, clutching a pillow underneath her chin.

"So tell me about your trip," I prompted, rubbing my hands together with the lotion I had found on the nightstand. Massage oil would have been better, but I had to work with what I had on hand. I made a mental note that if this was going to be my profession for the time being, then I needed to put together some sort of 'whore grab bag of tricks' for when I needed to do more than just straight out fucking.

"Um, well you know I told you about that sleazy bitch in my department who's always trying to get information out of me?"

"Yes, I remember," I said, staying in character.

Jane slightly jumped when I put my hands on her waist but relaxed as soon as I applied pressure to her muscles. She let out a moan and a sigh of relief.

"Your muscles are really tight here."

"An old injury when I was in South America," she explained. "I fell off a horse and sitting on a plane for a couple of hours and then being in meetings all evening with idiots don't help."

"So tell me about this sleazy bitch," I said, not wanting her to remember anything about her time in South America religious hell.

"That feels amazing," Jane purred, squirming as my fingers made circles into her sides. It was a while before she spoke again, too busy making little gasping sounds. "Anyway, this lady is a world class idiot. She has no idea what the project we're working on is about and she acts like just because she's got these enormous boobs then that automatically qualifies her as exempt from doing any kind of real work. She likes to strut around and throw them in your face."

"Is there anything you can do about it?"

"I've just been documenting everything crazy that she does and…."

I popped open the back closure of her bra. "And…?"

She paused and I felt her stiffen when I moved my hands to the sides of her breasts. I waited to see what she would do. Jane released the breath she was holding and trembling, pushed up on her elbows to slip the bra off, setting it to the side.

Score for Jane, one point for bravery!

I didn't want to rush her, so I consciously kept my fingers away from where her bra used to be for the time being.

"And since I think she's sleeping with our boss, I've been careful not to blatantly oppose her ideas in our meetings. Eventually someone has to see what a looney-tune she is, right?"

"I dunno, it's been my experience that the ones who don't deserve the recognition are always the ones who get it."

"So then how do you deal with that?"

I moved over her on the bed, straddling her from behind and running my knuckles up and down her spine. "I guess all you can do is to be the best you can at what you do and hope that it pays off one day."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

"Baby girl, you have no idea."

I could tell she was starting to relax more, so I chanced it and slowly slid the zipper on her skirt down, hoping that I wasn't pushing her too fast and that she wouldn't get freaked out. Just as I suspected, her panties matched the bra; a fine white lace thong. My dick was genuinely excited to be that close to a nice firm round ass and I wanted to see more so I inched the skirt down just a little.

From the time Maria found out that she was pregnant I had been living like a monk. Not necessarily out of duty to her even though we technically weren't in a relationship, but out of respect for the fact that the mother of my child was living in my home and I didn't want to do anything to further stress her out. Sad to say, my reintroduction into the land of coitus had been with Lauren, and I didn't even want to think about how bad that was. So to get the chance to do it with a nice girl, despite the fact that she had these freaky eyes and was paying me for it, was kinda exciting.

I dug my thumbs into the muscles at the top of her ass, making small circles and playing with the waist band of the thong with my other fingers. Jane stopped breathing altogether.

"Breath, Jane," I whispered in her ear. "Tell me how that feels."

She didn't answer and was still holding her breath.

"Jane?"

Her legs twitched. "I feel wet," she blurted out and was immediately embarrassed. "Oh God, that's so embarrassing."

Though she was face down on the bed I could see the blush creep up the back of her neck.

"No, it's not embarrassing, it's a good thing." I placed kisses up and down her spine. "And just so you know, my dick is rock hard waiting to get inside you."

She moaned.

"How wet are you?"

Silence.

I wanted her to be brave enough to tell me what felt good or what she didn't like.

I stopped what I was doing. "Jane, please speak to me."

She shook her head at first and remained silent. I didn't want her to think I was mad or going to withhold my attention just because she didn't answer, so I continue kneading her back muscles and kissing her shoulders and back.

"Is that normal?" she asked after a few minutes, her voice muffled by the pillow she was burying her face into.

"Yes baby, that's very normal."

"I-I never f-felt like that before," she whispered.

"How does it feel?"

She wiggled. "Different. Good. Exciting."

I let out the breath I'd been holding afraid that she was going to say she hated it. "Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes!" she said quickly.

"Good, that's good." I inched her skirt down a little more. "Is it okay if I take this off?"

She thought about it for a second and then lifted her hips so that I could pull it down. I pulled off my own shirt, dimmed the lights and rejoined her on the bed. At the feel of my naked chest against her back, Jane stiffened and tried to pull away.

"Easy, easy baby. We're just gonna continue as we were before, is that okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

I ran my hands up and down her back, kneading her muscles and trying to relax her again. Tension was literally oozing out of her body and it wasn't long before she was moaning again and wiggling against the mattress seeking the friction her body needed for release.

"So tell me, how wet you are?" I asked again, nibbling on the side of her neck. "Will you let me feel?"

In the tinniest voice she said, "Yes."

I moved down her body, kissing down her back as I went. Lying on my left side, I slipped my right hand in between her hips and the mattress. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and locked solidly in place like the doors at Fort Knox.

"Spread your legs for me baby, please?"

"Are you going to put it in now?" she asked, cautious.

"No, no. We've got a ways to go yet before that."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and when it comes time for that, I'm gonna ask you to put it in."

She rolled over onto her side with her back facing me and looked up at me out of the corner of her eye. "Me?"

I kissed her neck. "You're in control, remember?"

"But, I don't know how to do that."

Man, she sounded so pathetic saying that that it made me want to do everything I could to make this right for her. No one deserved to be mistreated, misused or neglected by someone who was supposed to love and take care of them . "It's alright, we'll work at it together, okay?"

"Okay."

"So umm, you gonna tell me what's next."

She swallowed hard. "I think you were going to see how…how…wet I am."

"Will you show me?" I held my hand up for her to take.

She did as I suspected; instead of immediately going for skin-on-skin contact, she gently placed my hand over her lace clad pussy. She was indeed wet, but I wanted her soaking for me. "How does that feel?" I asked, drawing circles on the 'v' of her vagina over her panties.

Jane had her eyes screwed shut and was holding onto that pillow for dear life. I kissed from her shoulder up to her neck, paying special attention to a sensitive spot between her ear and neck I had previously discovered.

"Oh God," she panted.

"Tell me what you want, Jane."

She spread her legs even further. "I-inside."

"You want me inside of you?" I asked, slightly lifting her panties and slipping a finger inside. Still being very cautious I let my fingers rest just inside of her panties, so that she could get accustom to me being this intimate with her before proceeding.

Jane unconsciously let me know when she was ready for the next step by gyrating her pelvis, seeking my fingers. I gave her what she was searching for and slipped two fingers inside her cleft. She was hot and wet and my dick was anxious to jump on her.

Her hips jerked upward and then she relaxed a little. At the angle we were laying, I didn't have much room to maneuver my fingers around and I didn't want to botch this up for her. "Will you roll all the way over baby?"

"Why?" she gasped.

"Because you have beautiful breasts and I want to suck on your tits while I finger fuck you," I said blatantly.

Her eyes popped wide open at that and she let out the breath she'd been holding.

Slowly, Jane released the pillow she had been partially clutching, shimmed the rest of the way out of her thong and then rolled over on her back.

"Say that again," she said.

I almost didn't hear her for staring at her breasts. They weren't overly small, but at least a handful with perky rose colored nipples. I licked my lips. "Say what again?"

"You know what," she said, blushing and trying to hide behind her hands.

"I want to suck on your tits while I finger fuck you."

"That sounds so…sexy. How do you do that…finger fuck?"

Since my hand was already in the general area, I showed her. "This is your clitoris, and if I touch it just right," I said, moving my finger back and forth over it, "then I can make you come."

"Ohmigod!" Her head fell back and her nails dug into my arm. "Oooohhh!"

I captured a nipple in between my lips and sucked on it, gently biting down before releasing it and repeating the process.

"Don't stop!" she ordered, bucking against the mattress.

I didn't want her to come too fast, so I slowed my finger down, working her clit back and forth and then in figure-eight circles. "You have a beautiful pussy. It's so pink and wet. I can't wait to put my dick inside you."

"Oh God," she panted, her eyes closed. "That feels so good."

"Give me your hand," I said. I stuck her finger in my mouth and then placed it on her clit, moving it around to show her the rhythm. "When I'm not around, this is how you please yourself."

Seeing her work her own clit was the sexiest thing I had seen in a long time and my dick was about to explode with needing to be inside her wet heat. I had to keep reminding myself that this was not about me and my needs. This was about making her feel secure about her own womanhood.

While she was learning to fuck herself, I was working on her nipples, kissing and sucking on one and rolling and pinching the other between my fingers.

"I want to come, please make me come," she begged, nearly out of breath.

"Keep fucking your clit," I said, and pushed her legs open a little more before plunging two fingers deep inside her. She was so tight around my fingers I had to grip the edge of the bed to restrain myself. She yelled something unintelligible and began working her clit at a furious pace. "Slowly Jane, take your time. Relax and forget everything else."

"I can… almost…feel it," she panted, "I think…I don't…ah…know but…."

"Relax, relax baby, go easy."

I pumped two fingers in and out of her and in a matter of seconds she was coming, a small orgasm that took her breath away and had her gasping for air and reaching for me. Her heart was beating furiously against her chest and when she abruptly stopped stroking her clit, I took up where she left off so that she could ride it out.

"Oh my god. Oh!" she sighed, mouth opening and closing in an 'O' like a guppy fish. Jane rolled over onto her side and curled into a ball, clutching the pillow again.

"Jane?"

"Give me… a minute, please," she panted, her voice thick with emotion.

I crawled up behind her in a spoon position and held onto her.

X-X-X-X-X

"Is it always like that?" she asked a little while later.

I pushed her hair off her shoulder and kissed her there. "It's different for everyone."

"Even for men?"

"Yeah, even for men."

She was quiet for a while more. "He didn't want babies with me, so I never saw what happened when he had an orgasm. He would pull out and go to the bathroom."

I didn't like hearing her talk about her ex-husband. Men who treated women badly made me want to hurt them, show them what it felt like to be abused and terrified.

"He's a jerk."

"I wish he could see me now, here, just like this."

I laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah, I want him to hear you tell me that I have beautiful breasts and you want to suck on my tits while you finger fuck me into an orgasm and I wanna rub it in his face." She thought for a second and chuckled under her breath. "I don't think I've ever said those words in my life."

"I'm teaching you all kinds of dirty things today."

"Yeah, and I think I like it."

"You know, the best revenge is living an awesome life," I said.

"True, very true but you gotta admit that it would be good revenge for him to see me having an awesome orgasm too." She laughed.

"I do agree with that. But baby girl, that was just a small one."

"W-what? A small one, really?"

I grinned at her. "Yeah, you'll see soon enough."

After a few minutes she released the pillow, rolled over and faced me. "Okay, I'm ready for my next lesson," she said, looking up at me with those big bright smiling eyes.

If I thought she was cold and stiff before, apparently her orgasm was the switch that had been flipped and she was a completely different person now.

"What do you want to learn next?"

She bit down on her lip. "Can I see it?"

When I frowned in confusion she clarified by looking down at my crotch.

"He didn't want the lights on, and I was never allowed to touch him there – not that I wanted to- so I've never really saw one up close," she explained. "Plus, it was poking me in the back, so I wanna see it."

"First of all, it's not an 'it'." I laughed at the face she made and kissed her forehead. "It's a penis."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I know what _it_ is."

"Then say it…please."

Jane thought for a moment, coughed a little and then cleared her throat. "May I see your penis?"

It was a small step, but progress nonetheless. "Yeah, you can see and you can hold my penis if you want, but you gotta help me undress first. Okay?"

She popped up off the bed like a jack-in-the-box and had her hands on my belt buckle before I even got fully up off the mattress. If one orgasm changed your mood or personality like this, well then hell, everyone needed to have one every day. The world might be a better place to live.

She slid the zipper down but hesitated when it came to pushing my pants down.

"It's okay." I said. "We're still doing this at your pace and you're still in control."

Slowly, keeping her eyes locked on mine, she slipped her hand down the front of my pants. When she found what she was looking for instead of snatching her hand back like I half expected her to, she wrapped her hand around me as much as she could within the constraints of my pants.

"It's hard and soft at the same time," she said a little breathlessly.

I took a deep breath, trying to control my reaction. "Yeah." That was all I could get out at the moment.

"Especially at the head."

She actually pinched the head of my dick with two fingers. I thought I was gonna come in my pants.

I wrapped my hand around her wrist to still her hand. "Jane, you've got to either take my pants off and keep doing that, or stop altogether."

"Does it hurt, being this hard?"

"Not exactly."

"Is this like what you were doing to me on the bed?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Oh. OH!" She grinned and then kept stroking me. "So you can come like this?"

"Oh, you think that's funny, that you've got all the power with my dick in your hot little hand?"

She nodded and laughed. "Yep."

"Okay, two can play that." I pinched both of her nipples and she let out a gaspy squeal. "How does that feel?"

"Amazing," she said, smiling.

I dipped my head and took one nipple in my mouth, sucking on it and releasing it with a loud 'pop'.

"Can you do that like, forever?" she murmured, winding her fingers through my hair and holding me to her breasts.

I kissed up her breast to her throat and sucked on the spot right behind her ear while circling both nipples with my thumbs.

"Jane, keep stroking my dick."

"I…can't…while you're doing…that."

I released her nipples and stepped back.

"Wh-what? Don't go anywhere!"

"Baby girl, I'm right here. I just have to take these pants off if we're gonna get somewhere with all of this."

"Oh, well hurry up," she demanded, hands on her hips.

I was wrong. Jane LeClaire was not a sexpot in disguise. She was a sexpot in the great wide open for everyone to see. I had released the beast with one tiny orgasm.

I dropped my pants and boxers, letting my dick bounce around in the open air. Jane's eyes followed it's every move. I stroked myself a couple of times just to see her reaction and walked out to the bar in the living room to pour myself a drink. Her eyes were still following me.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"It's so big, will it fit okay?"

I pulled her close to me, trapping my hard dick in between us and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I'm gonna suck on these sweet little tities and make you so wet that all your juices will run down your thighs and make my big dick slide right into your tight, hot pussy. And then I'm gonna fuck you, going in and out, fast and then slow until you're screaming my name, scratching my back with your nails and begging for more. So yeah, it's gonna fit so well you'll be feeling me inside you long after I'm gone."

And then I stepped away from her.

"Tell me what you want to do," I said to her.

She stood there, staring at me with her mouth open.

"Jane? You okay?"

She swallowed a couple of times. "Yeah, and with what you just described, I think my juices are running pretty freely right now."

Even though she still blushed with shyness, I was proud of the way she was getting more comfortable with not hesitating to say what was on her mind. We had plenty of work to accomplish but we were moving along quite nicely.

"What part did you like the best?"

"When your fingers were inside of me."

"Do you want my dick inside of you?"

"Yes," she admitted. "Oh, yes."

"How?"

She cocked her head to one side. "How?"

I smiled at her innocence and down the rest of the Scotch in my glass. "Have you never ever seen a porn?"

She shook her head. "No. I know what they are, but I've never seen one."

"Oh baby, there are thousands of ways."

"Thousands, really? I've only heard of a few."

I took her hand and pulled her back into the bedroom. "C'mon, let me show you one of my favorites."

X-X-X-X-X-X

"Stop."

I looked up at her from my position between her thighs, wondering if I was doing something wrong, because the way she had been panting and pulling on my hair told me a different story.

"Huh?"

"Just stop for a second, please."

She wanted me to stop, so I immediately stopped kissing the inside of her thigh and sat up on my knees , holding my hands up as a show that I wasn't going to ignore her command and that whatever she needed or wanted me to do, I would do.

'What is it? What's wrong?"

"No, it's nothing like that," she said and raised her arms beckoning for me to come closer to her.

I lay down beside her and tucked my arms under my head, staring up at the ceiling. "Tell me, please."

"I don't want you to pretend to be Peter anymore," Jane said.

That wasn't at all what I expected her to say. "Huh, what?"

Jane didn't say anything; she was nervous about something and started plucking at the hairs on my lower belly.

I put my hand over hers to stop her. "That tickles."

"Sorry."

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged.

I rolled over onto my side to face her. "Jane, we're lying here butt ass naked. You can't be shy with me now."

She didn't say anything, just boldly started running her hand up and down my stomach and lightly dragging her nails across my skin. I didn't mind letting her explore, but I'd be damn that when she started stroking me and talking at the same time, I was concentrating so hard on not exploding all over her hand that I almost missed what she said.

I stopped her so I could focus. "What? Say that again."

She shrugged again. "I said, I know that you were trying to get me to feel comfortable, and I am now –well, somewhat - so there's no need to pretend to be Peter anymore."

"Baby girl, we haven't even done it yet, are you sure you're this comfortable with me?" I asked.

"No, I mean yes…I don't know!" She took a deep breath. "You touched me down there and you didn't make me feel weird or…like it was me that was…wrong or different. When I see you, I see _you, _not my ex-husband and definitely not Peter. And I know it sounds crazy, but you seem almost like my friend and not some guy I'm paying for sex. So yeah, I am comfortable with you and I don't want to call you by his name."

"Okay, I can understand that." For some reason, she was right. I did feel a crazy instant connection with her that didn't make me feel sleazy or dirty about having sex with her for money.

"That's not to say that I don't want to…maybe play out fantasies sometime." She looked up at me through her pale blond lashes with her big bright eyes. "You know if you're up to it."

"So are you giving me an open invitation to come back or are you saying that you want to act out a fantasy right now?"

She nodded. "Well, both…kinda."

"Mmm…okay…"

"I'm in New York a lot on business, I'll call you and well, you know maybe we can hook up. And don't worry, I'm not gonna fall in love with you like a reverse 'Pretty Woman' or anything."

"Aw man, you mean no white limousine and roses?"

"I have a black super turbo Volkswagen Beetle with daisies in the little cup," she offered.

We laughed together. "I guess I'll have to make do with that." I thought about what she said for a minute. "What do you know about fantasies, you've never watched a porn before," I pointed out.

"Jasper, I _am_ a woman. I may not know a lot about sex or how it's supposed to feel, but I can and have imagined things. And I've read romance novels before."

"So what are some things you imagine? What or who do you want me to be now?"

She blushed deeper than I had ever seen her blush before. "I don't know…."

"You don't know, but you've just turned as red as a tomato?" I teased and pinched and tugged on her nipple.

She squealed but instead of squirming away from me, threw her leg over my hip and pulled me closer. "Do that again."

I rolled onto my back, lifting her slightly and bringing her on top of me, settling her on top of my thighs. She was obviously surprised to be there, naked and with so many body parts touching all of a sudden. Jane started to try to wiggle off but I captured one breasts in my hand and lightly bit down on one of her nipples. With the other, I used two fingers to stroke her clit and Jane stopped wiggling to get off and started wiggling to find the connection with me her body needed.

"Who do you want me to be, Jane?" I whispered against her skin, kissing up the valley between her breasts as I stroked her, back and forth down below.

"Oh…ummm…ahh…."

"Just say the words, whatever you need from me I'll give it to you." I gently bit her neck, sucking on her skin there before plunging my two fingers inside of her. "Talk to me baby." I bit down harder and each time I thrust my fingers inside of her wet heat, I could feel her thighs clench and release. "God, you're so wet for me."

"Jasper….oh…."

"Do you want me inside of you?"

She nodded, hair falling into her eyes.

"Say it, please."

"Please…"

"Please what?" I tortured her a little, wiggling my fingers while inside of her. Her nails sunk into my shoulders and with her head kicked back, Jane let out a yell. My dick jumped at the sight of her exposed neck, breasts jutting out in my face and the feel of her pussy wrapped around my fingers. I needed inside of her almost as bad as she needed me there.

"Condom," I said through clenched teeth. "Put my condom on."

She shook her head. "Don't know…how," she panted looking at me dazed.

She whimpered in protest when I removed my fingers. "Don't worry baby, Imma 'bout to put something better inside of you."

I reached over and snatched the condom off the nightstand where I had placed it earlier and carefully tore into it with my teeth.

"Gimme your hand," I ordered.

Jane blinked at me in confusion at the impatient tone in my voice, a reminder that I needed to slow down and not rush her.

"Baby, let me show you how to put this on, is that okay?" I asked as my apology for ordering her around and then lightly kissed and suckled one of her nipples to show that I wasn't trying to take over.

She let out a breath she had been holding and let me guide her fingers on how to place the condom at the tip of my dick and roll it down.

"Now what?" she asked, looking down at me with huge, curious eyes.

"Now put me inside of you," I said, trying to sound like the anticipation wasn't just about to kill my ass too.

"With me sitting like this?"

"You're in control, remember? Where you're sitting, you have all the control; speed and depth."

"Depth?"

"You can put me in a little, or all the way," I explained and scooted back into the pillows so that I was half sitting, half lying on the bed. I continued my playing with her clit to keep her focused on the goal.

"Oh, okay." She looked down at my dick, standing straight up like a flag pole and just as hard as one and then back up at me. "Help?"

I grinned at her sheepish expression. "Get up on your knees a little," I whispered and tugged on her ear with my teeth. "Now hold me in place…and sit down."

"Huh?" She fumbled around for a moment, and then sunk down over me. "Oh." She moved up and, "WOW!" and then down, "ohmigod!"

"You have to keep doing that," I reminded her when she suddenly stopped and with my hands on her hips, guided her into finding her own rhythm.

It was magic, watching the expressions on her face, seeing her hair stick to her forehead with the sweat of her exertions and feeling her ass cheeks in my hands as her wet heat surrounded me. "C'mon baby, make yourself come on my dick."

She shook her head. "Can't…legs…"

Jane wasn't anywhere near used to this type of body work and her legs were starting to give out on her. "Do you want me to fuck you baby?"

"Yes," she panted.

"Say it, please," I teased her, sucking on her neck.

"Jasper, please fuck me." She said it like she meant it, with no hesitation and much louder than her normal whispered unsure commands.

"Hold onto me." I rolled her over, bringing her underneath me but being careful not to crush her with my body weight. Instinctively, Jane wrapped her legs around my waist and clung to me as I pumped and rolled my hips into her.

"Jasper!"

I rested my weight on my forearms on the bed on either side of her head. "Look at me," I whispered. "Look into my eyes while I make you come."

She shook her head. "I can't."

I kissed her closed eyelids. "Let it go, Jane. Look at me, please."

When she finally opened her eyes, tears ran out and into her hair. At first I was scared that I had hurt her and started to pull away, but Jane tightened her legs around my waist and sunk her nails into my shoulders.

"I've never felt this alive before," she whispered. "He took this from me; he made me feel worthless."

"Don't think about it anymore. Don't let anyone or anything stop you from enjoying how this feels."

"God…"

I kissed her face, her cheeks, forehead and all around her mouth near her lips as I worked her faster and then slower, trying to gauge her emotions and what she needed and wanted by how she moaned and bucked against me. "You're right there. C'mon baby, breathe through it and let it go."

Her back arched off the mattress and she shouted long and hard with her release.

X-X-X-X-X-X

"I'm sorry I kept you so long," Jane said with a sheepish grin. "You won't get in trouble with your boss will you?"

I tossed aside the towel I had used to dry my hair after we got out of the shower and finished buttoning up my doorman's coat. There was no way I could've immediately jumped up and left her after fucking her and giving her her first real orgasm and taste of intimacy. I might be a whore, but I was not some insensitive jackass.

So we laid around for a while, just talking and touching and when my phone beeped with a text from Eric, I knew it was time to get back to the real world of hustling luggage for the Ren's guests and trying to stay out of Mike Mountain of Meat's way. The only problem was that Jane was more than ready to go again and truthfully, I didn't mind giving her what she wanted.

"Don't worry about me. I'm gonna be okay. What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm gonna be okay," she repeated my words with a heavy sigh.

"Look, don't sit around here all night. Go out for dinner or something or take a cab down to Time Square. A lot of the shops stay open late and it's fairly safe as long as you stay near the lights and the crowds."

She nodded and dipped her head. "I will."

I tipped her head back and placed a kiss on the spot right between her eyes. "Jane LeClaire, thank you for a lovely evening."

She slipped a wad of cash into my free hand. "Thank you for everything; for being gentle and understanding and for not running off afterwards."

The whole time I was with her I wasn't even worried about the money and wasn't concerned about it now. I slipped it in my pocket and pulled her in for another hug. "When will you be back in town?"

"I'm here a couple of times a month," she said with tears glistening in her eyes. When she saw my worried expression, she waved it away. "I'm okay, really. I'm actually very happy."

"You know how to contact me."

She nodded. "I do and I will."

I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Take care of yourself and remember I owe you a fantasy."

"Next time, definitely," she agreed, wave and closed the door.

I stood there looking stupid for a minute, like what the hell was I supposed to do now before reality hit me in the form of my fat ass boss walking toward me.

"Whitlock, where the hell you been, boy?"

"Mike, I-"

"You been gone for four fucking hours!"

"I haven't been gone for that long."

"Bull shit! What the hell you up to, lallying-gagging around up here on the second floor when you should be down in the lobby? I've had to step in and do your damn pack mule of a job carrying luggage!"

_Heaven forbid he actually do some work_, I thought and caught myself before I said it aloud. Even though whoring paid the bills I still needed my job at the Ren as a front to what I was doing in the suites with the female guests.

Suddenly the door opened and Jane stepped out in black short shorts, wedge sandals and a tank top. Holy hell! The old school maid outfit must only be for work because I would have never pictured seeing her in something so revealing, "I'm sorry sir, but you forgot your multi-function tool thingy when you came to fix my plumbing."

"Huh?" I said, struck stupid again.

"The shower head," Jane said, giving me the follow-my-lead eye.

Catching on I patted my pockets as if I was surprised it was missing and said, "Oh, yeah, the shower head."

Mike stood there staring back and forth between Jane and me before he punched my shoulder. "You leavin' tools lying around everywhere now?" He took it from her hand and shoved it into mine. "I hope everything is okay in your room, ma'am?"

"Yes they are, thank you. Mr. Whitlock was most accommodating to my needs." She glanced at me, blushed and looked quickly looked away.

Mike punched me again and pushed me forward. "Get back to work kid." He turned back to Jane. "If there's anything else you need, just make sure to call the front desk, and I'll personally see to it," he said, eyeing her long legs.

Jane gave him a grimace smile. "Thank you, but I believe I'm all set until my next visit. Now if you'll excuse me, a friend suggested I take a cab down to Times Square as an alternative to sitting alone in my room all night."

"Shall I hail a cab for you?" Mike asked, scurrying along behind her.

"No, I'm fine, thank you." Jane punched the elevator button to close the doors and flashed me a smile as they closed.

"Didn't I tell you to get back to work," Mike barked at me. "'Fore I fire yo punk ass."

X-X-X-X-X-X

I stared at the numbers on the page. After working and re-working the figures, I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Tuition was due in three weeks.

And I was nearly broke….again.

I had been delivering towels for about four months and since my first time with Lauren I hadn't had another freak out after the deed was done. In fact, because I had clients like Alice and Jane to look forward to each week, dealing with Lauren or some of my other less than stellar regulars wasn't so bad.

We had been eating well and all the bills were current. Ava was growing in leaps and bounds and in between work and class and trying to have somewhat of a normal life, I was exhausted and didn't know how much longer I could continue…with any of it.

But it wasn't like I could quit.

Granny B's landlord found out that Ava and I were now living with her and increased her rent. As much as I hated paying the extra cash, at least we weren't homeless. On top of all that, the medicine Granny was now taking caused certain side effects that required additional medicine to counteract it. That was another bill I couldn't afford but knew I had no choice but to pay.

And I hated thinking about the bills I was getting from Ava's pediatrician for her routine check up's, vaccines, the ear infections and then cold she caught from Seth. When she was born I had health insurance through my job so the hospital stay and all the nickel and diming the doctor's do for delivering a baby was paid. But thanks to Maria, when I lost my job I lost my health insurance. The company sent me that slap in the face COBRA letter in the mail, stating that I could continue my benefits for the low-low price of five times what I was paying while I was employed.

Who the hell can afford that?

Are these people fucking insane?

Every time I thought about the way that bitch fucked me over, it made me mad as hell and I wanted to destroy something. Which was why I enjoyed my second job at the school gym. All I had to do was sit at the little round desk for one shift at least once a week and check students in, and I got free membership as one of the perks.

I used my free gym passes to either pound the living hell out of the punching bags or run my legs to stubs on the treadmill after class. The physical exertion kept my mind off the shit-hole that was my life and kept me focused on what was really important: Ava, Granny B's health and school.

"Whatcha doin' Whitlock?" Eric asked, pushing my pile of books and notebooks aside so he could sit down.

I stared down at the notepad I had been scratching my figures on, thinking that there was no way in hell I could say what I was about to say to him. "I need more towel runs," I said, nearly choking on the words.

Eric quirked an eyebrow at me. "What's going on Jasper? You've been whorin' like an addict tryin' to score his next hit. You in some kinda trouble?"

"Why all these questions? What's it to you why I want more money?"

He shook his head. "You don't want this, my man."

"I gotta pay tuition."

"So get a student loan."

"I did, but it only pays for half. Plus, I gotta buy books and then there's all those fees." I took a deep breath, trying to relax my nerves. Eric didn't need to know how bad off I was financially. As slimy mutherfucka's went, he was at the top of the list and might try to use my losses to his gain. "Look, I know we got the business comin' in, you even got those two new guys doing runs."

He picked up my pencil, tapping the eraser on the notebook and shook his head again. "Look man, this biz ain't for you. You don't wanna get caught up in making a fast buck and get hooked on this lifestyle."

Hooked on the lifestyle? Was he serious? Who the hell could get hooked on selling their body for money? It wasn't like I was a fat kid in danger of getting hooked on Ho-Ho's or ding dong's. All I needed was to pay my tuition and feed my kid.

He shook his head and thought for a second. "I got a phone call from a potential new bitch the other day."

"Okay, and?" I asked, waving my hand for him to proceed.

What was he waiting on? Whatever it was, as long as it paid, I was down for it.

"I dunno man. I'm not sure how safe this is."

"What is it, Eric?"

He scratched his head. "It's off site, so that sense of security we have doin' it here will be gone."

I was a grown ass man, I didn't need any protection. "And?"

"It's some kinda all female theme party. I don't know all the deets yet." He shook his head again. "But tell you what, Em and Edward said they needed some extra cash. We'll all go."

I wasn't up for sharing shit with anybody at the moment, but all I needed was to get in good with whoever this chick was that Eric was thinking about and then I had a chance at scoring a repeat, high paying customer.

"Cool, name the time and the place."

A couple of nights later Emmett, Edward and I met at the address Eric had given us. He told us to wait for him at the diner on the corner as he was running late. When he finally showed we went across and down the street to the dark townhouse.

Eric rang the doorbell twice, said something that sounded like gibberish into the intercom system on the wall and we waited. After a series of clicks, the heavy oak door popped open and we went inside. The door, apparently on some sort of spring mechanism, closed behind us and locked into place.

There was a long dark hallway ahead of us bathed in a strange glowing blue light and what was so strange about it all was how quiet everything was. It was almost like walking into a well or tunnel where you feel surrounded by _something_ but far off from everything at the same time. The hair stood up on the back of my neck.

"What kinda party did you say this was?" Emmett asked.

"He didn't," Edward said. "We might need an exit strategy."

I knew what my exit strategy was; get the fuck out however I could and be damned who was in my way.

We passed several doors and finally got to the door at the end of the hallway. Eric knocked, the door was immediately flung open and we were ushered inside into a small vestibule by a woman wearing all black. Loud acid rock music was playing that could be heard in the room we were in, but not out in the hallway. Somebody had paid some serious cash for superior sound proofing.

"I'm not liking this," Emmett whispered in the way extremely large guys whisper which really isn't softer than their normal voice but because they say it out of the side of their mouth and lean in close to your ear, they think they're whispering.

Yeah, I wasn't feeling it either, but they don't say curiosity killed the cat for nothing.

The woman in black led us down a set of stairs to another door which she unlocked with a key from a chain around her neck.

As soon as the door opened I smelled it before I saw it running down the walls.

Blood.

**So yeah, I don't know where this is going, but I know that it's not going to get dark and creepy. I type what's in my head at the moment and hope that I can build on it later! :)**


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